At Thorin's signal, Balin nodded, reaching into the depths of his wide, crimson coat to produce five thick stacks of paper contracts.
Balin offered a gentle smile. "Just a few standard procedures," he explained, his voice calm and grandfatherly. "They cover cash expenses, the duration of the contract, fair compensation, and… funeral arrangements."
The relaxed atmosphere in the room instantly tensed at his final two words. Bilbo's smile froze on his face.
After handing one stack to the Hobbit, Balin rose and distributed the remaining four among the Tarnished and his companions.
The Tarnished gave the contract a quick scan. Finding nothing amiss, he took the offered quill and swiftly signed his name. Seeing this, Millicent and Igon added their own signatures without a second glance. Bernahl gave the document a brief look, but the dense, intricate script of the Dwarven contract quickly overwhelmed him, and he simply added his name below the others.
Our Hobbit, however, could not get the words "funeral arrangements" out of his head. He began to read his copy word by painstaking word. As a Baggins, he was naturally wary of any and all contracts, and this one demanded exceptional scrutiny.
Bilbo unfolded the document completely, its length nearly rivaling his own Hobbit stature. "Oh my," he murmured, his eyes tracing the Common Tongue words rendered in an elegant, artistic Dwarven script.
The first section seemed reasonable enough. Payment upon completion of services. Any profit shall be shared, amounting to no more than one-seventeenth of the total.
"Hmm, that's quite fair," Bilbo nodded to himself.
But then his eyes continued down the page. We shall not be held liable for injuries caused by, or for continuous harm resulting from, the following circumstances, including but not limited to: dismemberment…
Bilbo blinked. He read the word again, confirming he hadn't imagined it, then shot a nervous glance at Balin. The kindly old dwarf simply offered him a polite, reassuring smile in return.
Bilbo lowered his head back to the contract. …evisceration, and incineration.
He snapped the contract shut, clutching it tightly in his hand. The last vestiges of his adventurous spirit, that spark of his Tookish ancestry, were instantly doused by those terrifying words.
Bofur, finding the Hobbit's reaction amusing, leaned forward. "Is something wrong, Master Baggins?" he asked with a mischievous twinkle in his eye.
Bilbo took a deep, steadying breath. "It's nothing," he said, patting his chest. "I just feel there are a few too many dwarves in here. It's getting a bit stuffy."
Gandalf shot Bofur a glare so sharp his eyebrows seemed to stand on end. "Do not frighten away the courage our burglar has just managed to muster," he warned, his voice a low rumble. "If we lose him and his stealth, which we need to reclaim the Arkenstone, then you can be the one to face a dragon who knows the scent of dwarves all too well."
Bofur immediately snapped his mouth shut.
Seeing Bilbo still struggling to catch his breath, Balin asked with genuine concern, "Are you alright, old chap?"
"Yes, much better," Bilbo managed, patting his chest again. "At least I shan't faint."
"So," Balin prompted gently, "is our esteemed burglar prepared to sign?"
Bilbo pursed his lips. "Well, I could… it's just…" His timid nature had taken over once more, his vivid imagination painting gruesome scenes of his demise at Smaug's claws. He looked from Gandalf to the Tarnished, his eyes pleading. "It's just… can you guarantee that I will return safely?"
Gandalf opened his mouth to speak, but the Tarnished answered first, his voice steady and clear. "I cannot promise you will return unharmed, Bilbo. No one can. But I can give you my word on this: you will face no danger that I do not face first. Any enemy that wishes to harm you will have to step over my body to do it."
Bilbo stared into the man's eyes and saw not a flicker of fear, only resolute purpose.
At that moment, Gandalf's voice softened. "Bilbo, my dear boy, I remember when you were a lad. You were always sneaking off to find elves in the woods, staying out until after dark and returning with mud on your feet and fireflies in your hair. That little Hobbit wanted nothing more than to see what lay beyond the borders of the Shire."
Bilbo let out a long sigh. "Yes, yes, Gandalf, I know what you're saying. The world isn't in my books and maps. It's out there."
Then, a small smile touched his lips as he looked to the Tarnished. "Do you remember when we first parted? I asked you if I should go out and see the world."
The Tarnished nodded. "I remember. And I remember my answer. Does your heart have its own answer now?"
With newfound resolve, Bilbo walked to the table, picked up the quill, and with a flourish, signed his name on the contract. "Yes," he said, looking up at the company. "I think that besides reading about adventures, I should like to write one of my own. If I do return, perhaps I won't be the same Hobbit who left."
A warm, gentle expression graced Gandalf's features as he looked upon the timid yet courageous Hobbit.
"So," Bilbo said, his voice now bright with excitement, "what's next? Shall we have another dinner to celebrate?"
Bombur, who was contentedly stroking his large belly, nodded with vigor. "That sounds like a fine idea!"
"We're not all like you, Bombur," Kili retorted with a grin. "Master Baggins has already filled us to bursting!"
Bilbo scratched his head. "Well, I'm sure there are leftovers. Enough for a midnight supper, at least."
"Thank you for your generosity, Mr. Bilbo, but we really couldn't eat another bite," Fili said quickly, as Balin and Dwalin shook their heads in agreement.
"Alright then," Bilbo said, a little dejected.
The Tarnished laughed good-naturedly. "I had forgotten the Hobbit's custom of many meals. You see, Bilbo? In appetite alone, you are mightier than the dwarves."
"The strength of a dwarf is in his drink, not his plate!" Glóin boomed. "Master Baggins, would you care for a drinking contest?"
Seeing the dwarves' eyes light up at the suggestion, Bilbo quickly changed the subject. "If there are no other activities, I suppose we can all get some rest! When does this adventure begin? Tomorrow? The day after?" He began muttering to himself, "Oh, I must remember to lock the front door tightly before I leave, lest those dreadful Sackville-Bagginses try to steal all my silver spoons."
"I suggest you start packing, Master Burglar," Thorin announced, his deep voice cutting through the chatter. "We set out at dawn. There will be no time for slow preparations."
Dwarves were not ones for procrastination. Once a destination was set, they were up and gone. While the Tarnished was accustomed to their ways, Bilbo was clearly unprepared for such a swift departure. His mind began to race, a flutter of excitement mixing with panic.
A sleeping bag, a light blanket, clean clothes… and perhaps some soap for washing by a river.
This was it. His first real adventure, alongside a wizard and a company of dwarves. His heart pounded in his chest. It was clear that Bilbo Baggins would not be getting much sleep tonight.
Just then, the Tarnished spoke up. "Then let us take this chance for me to properly introduce the allies I have brought for this journey!"
Thorin smiled, pleased. "Excellent! Let us hear what powerful friends the great Tarnished, Lord of the Golden Tree, has brought to our cause!"
Caught up in the moment, Bilbo scurried to pull a stool closer to the table, his ears perked and his eyes wide with anticipation. The dwarves fell silent, their expectant gazes fixed on the Tarnished. Thorin's intent was clear: he wanted the rest of his company to understand the caliber of these allies, to bolster their courage for the road ahead.
He knew that while these dwarves had bravely answered his call, the shadow of Smaug still loomed large in their hearts. Having read the Tarnished's letters, Thorin already knew of his companions' prowess, but he wanted his kin to hear it for themselves.
The introduction for Bernahl was met with enthusiastic applause. Fili and Kili had already sung his praises, and the other dwarves, who viewed the two princes as their own, already considered him a respected teacher.
Bilbo, however, was secretly astonished. He recalled the Tarnished mentioning that Bernahl was a warrior of comparable strength to himself. Bernahl, the Would-be Lord, he thought, remembering the title. Wait a moment… could it be that all three of them are legends from his stories?
His eyes widened as he put the pieces together. He looked first at the silent, graceful woman beside the Tarnished. The crimson hair, the unmistakable golden prosthetic… that had to be Millicent, the noble swordswoman! And the other man, the old warrior in patched-together armor with eyes as slitted as a dragon's… that must be Igon, the "Dragon Warrior" who had faced the Mad Dragon Baylor!
Bilbo was so thrilled he nearly cried out. He was going on an adventure with living legends.
While Bilbo's heart was pounding, the Tarnished finished his introductions. Compared to Millicent, the dwarves' attention was focused squarely on Igon. After all, his title was "Dragon Warrior."
"Wonderful!" Bofur cheered. "With a mighty dragonslayer among us, Smaug is as good as dead!"
Igon let out a hearty laugh. "I gave the Tarnished my word! Even if it costs me my life, I will drive my harpoon deep into that overgrown lizard's hide!"
Harpoon? A few of the dwarves exchanged confused looks.
The Tarnished quickly clarified, "The 'harpoon' Igon speaks of is a greatbolt, a massive projectile he crafts from a stone as resilient as dragon scale."
The confusion on the dwarves' faces vanished, replaced by a fresh wave of boisterous confidence as they began toasting their future victory.
Thorin slammed his tankard on the table. "Alright! Our allies have been introduced. Now, to rest! Bofur, Bifur, Bombur, you three help our Master Burglar with the kitchen. The rest of you, find a room and sleep."
Snapped from his excited reverie, Bilbo quickly stood. "There are plenty of rooms in Bag End, though it is a bit of a maze. Allow me to show you the way."
And so the night passed. As expected, Bilbo was far too excited to sleep. He spent hours checking and rechecking his luggage, only collapsing onto his bed from sheer exhaustion just as the first hint of dawn touched the sky.
But poor Bilbo felt as though he had only just closed his eyes when a hand shook him awake.
"Hey, hey, Master Burglar, wake up," Bofur's cheerful voice cut through the fog of sleep.
Bilbo let out a weary groan. Pushing himself halfway up from his warm quilt, he yawned, "Is it time to go?"
"Yes," Bofur said with a smile. "Thorin and the others are ready. We're just waiting on you." He then gestured to a leather suitcase and two bulging cloth sacks by the bed. "Is this all your luggage?"
Bilbo, not yet fully awake, nodded. "Yes, that's them…" His eyes suddenly shot open. "Hey! Where are you taking those?"
Before he could protest, Bofur had already slung the suitcase over one shoulder and effortlessly hefted a bulging sack in each hand. He turned back, looking genuinely puzzled by the Hobbit's alarm. "To take them outside for you, of course."
The last remnants of sleep vanished from Bilbo's mind. "Outside? But what about breakfast? Shouldn't we set off in the warm morning sun after we've all eaten and drunk our fill?"
Bofur's expression softened with understanding. He shook his head with a gentle smile. "Ah, no. Breakfast will be on horseback. Now hurry along, Master Baggins. Best not to keep Thorin waiting."
And with that, the dwarf turned and walked out of Bag End with the Hobbit's luggage, leaving a flabbergasted Bilbo Baggins behind in his empty room.
[Chapter Complete]
***
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