Two Unexpected Guests
"At your service!" The two dwarves bowed politely.
"You must be Mr. Boggins!" The darker haired dwarf smiled, about to step inside his warm home.
"Why, yes... I am?" The middle aged hobbit stared with uncertainty, as his eyes shifted between the odd looking dwarves at his doorstep.
"Hear that, brother? I told you this was the right house!" The one called Kíli exclaimed, smiling cheekily at Fíli.
The two heirs pushed aside the hobbit, welcoming themselves inside his house. The black haired hobbit stared in confusion, looking in between the brothers again. "I am sorry, but, who are you two?"
"Fíli and Kíli." Fíli answered again, his eyes roaming down the halls and around the rooms from where he stood. He turned on his heel so he was facing the Hobbit. "Be careful with these, I just had them sharpened." He smiled rather sweetly, pulling out two fine swords, a dagger from inside his coat, and a dagger from each boot, piling his weapons in the hobbit's outstretched hands.
"This is nice." Kíli commented, nodding his head in approval. He narrowed his eyes in the slightest, tilting his head. "Where are they others?" The younger dwarf asked, turning to face the hobbit and his brother.
Mr. Boggins blinked. "Excuse me, but which others?" He asked quietly, afraid of the two imposing dwarves.
"I thought that Dwalin was coming here first?" Fíli asked, sharing a confused look with Kíli.
"Aye." Kíli muttered, scanning the area once more. "Who are you?" He asked the young hobbit, his eye twitching.
"I am Balbo Boggins." The dark haired hobbit replied, a sinking feeling settling deep in his gut. "Am I not...?" He asked unsurely after a quiet moment.
Kíli once again shared a look with his brother, but shrugged after a thoughtful minute. "Sounds about right." He eased off the subject, turning his attention back to looking for the others.
"Maybe we're just early." Fíli offered, walking up to the younger heir.
"Maybe it was canceled." Kíli's eyes widened, a look of shock overcoming his features with a sharp gasp.
"Canceled?" Balbo grunted, wondering just what was canceled and at his house no matter.
The two brothers ignored the host, both looking lost in their own thoughts. "Well, wouldn't Thorin tell us?" Fíli raised his eyebrows in questioning.
"Maybe he was going to, but got attacked by orcs!" Kíli gasped again, sharing another shocked expression with not only Fíli, but also Balbo.
"Orcs!" The hobbit gasped, letting the swords and sharp ends fall to the ground with a clatter as he stumbled backwards. "No! Not at the Shire!" He looked ready to cry as he ignored Fíli's annoyed gaze, "I must warn my cousins!" He gaped, racing through the long small halls for his jacket. He came back in a matter of seconds, dressed for the outside. "I must warn-!" Just as Kíli opened the door, Balbo smacked right into it, the sound echoing down the hall. Balbo stumbled straight to the ground with a groan, out cold with a small trickle of blood rolling from his forehead.
Fíli and Kíli stared in silence at the fallen hobbit, fighting the urge to laugh, and settled for staring. "That went well... Do you suppose we should get things ready for the others?" Kíli interrupted the silence that ate at the open air with an easy going smile.
"Sure, brother. Though it was surprising that we are the first ones here." Fíli pursed his lips, rising his shoulders in a shrugging motion as he left to find food.
Not even half an hour later, everything was ready. Food covered the two tables pushed side by side, chairs littered the room, and ale was placed neatly in front of each seat.
The two heirs Under the Mountain stared at the welcoming sight, blinking. "They still haven't arrived..." Fíli muttered, turning to look outside the window. The stars glittered under the dark night sky, and the moon shone bright as a source of light for all who lived beneath.
Kíli frowned, feeling a looming silence settle in. "Do you think they all got lost?" He cocked his head to the side.
"It is possib-" Fíli hadn't any time to finish his sentence, as he was suddenly pushed to the ground, a furious hobbit atop of him.
"You-! You two are horrible!" Balbo cried, pounding his tiny fists against Fíli's chest.
Fíli, unaffected by the fists, grabbed the hobbits wrists. "What's your problem Mr. Boggins?" He glared as Kíli tore away the enraged hobbit.
"You two are! You come into my house uninvited! You make a mess of my pantry, and ruin my carpets, and there is garbage everywhere!" The smaller Middle Earthian yelled, waving his fists in the air.
Fíli and Kíli backed away, hands up in the air as a sign of defeat.
"YOU THINK YOU CAN JUST BARGE INTO ANYONE'S HOUSE! YOU TWO WILL BE SORRY!" Balbo screeched, picking up one of his great grandmothers chairs. The hobbit threw it with surprising strength. Kíli barely had any time to dodge the flying chair, but managed somehow. He ended up tripping over Fíli's foot, pulling his brother to the ground in the process.
"Run, brother!" Fíli cried, pushing Kíli off of him, scrambling to his feet. "LOOK WHAT YOU MADE ME DO!" Balbo roared, looking more like an enraged orc than a quiet hobbit.
"RUUUNN!" Kíli yelled, as he shoved his older brother towards the door.
"Honestly, where are those two?" Thorin grumbled, staring at his empty plate. His knuckles nearly turned white as his grip tightened on his cup.
"I- I'm sorry, but who?" Bilbo asked, wondering just how many dwarves were supposed to be here. (All he wanted was a quiet night.)
"They are my nephews, the last two who are not here yet." Thorin scowled, his grip tightening around the mug, making the wood groan in protest.
Bilbo nodded, slowly turning away from the table to look out at the dark night sky. What greeted his sight was a bit shocking, because instead of the stars, he watched figures run by screaming, along with his cousin, Balbo Boggins, chasing after them with some dangerous looking cutlery.
"Uhm... they wouldn't happen to have dark brown and blond hair, would they...?" Bilbo squeaked, running closer to watch the heirs run away from his angry cousin.
"In Durin's name-..." Thorin snarled, letting his mug full of ale drop to the floor as he stood, reaching for his sword.
Annnnd, this is the result of my evil writer's block. :D
I don't know if anyone already wrote something like this, but whatever, I just wanted to get that out of my mind so I can focus on my other Hobbit stories... Lol
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