A Treasure Beyond Compare (ThorinxOCxOC)

Chapter 2

Disclaimer: The Hobbit belongs to J.R.R Tolkien, WB, MGM, brief mention of Jon Snow belongs to George R.R. Martin and HBO.

Six Months Later

"Of all the confounded nonsense? A wizard? A wizard! Indeed!" Bilbo's distressed cry rang loudly through the hobbit hole. "I have no need of adventure or clot-headed wizards. No need at all!"

I lowered my duster from the bookshelf, a slight frown curling my mouth. The Shire had been my home for half a year now and Mr. Baggins had been extraordinarily kind and generous, offering me room and board along with employment.

I had not meant to stay this long but I was no closer to developing a plan of action than when I had arrived in Middle Earth and I'd seen hide no hair of that unscrupulous old man since our initial encounter.

Setting the duster on a nearby table, I brushed off my hands on the front of my apron and went to find my boss. I discovered him in the foyer, squished up against the wall as if hiding from something. "Sir?"

A look of relief crossed Bilbo's face when he saw me. "Miss Monroe? Have you finished dusting the library?"

I put a hand on my hip. "Yes, but what's going on out here?"

The hobbit let out a nervous laugh and tugged at the collar of his shirt. "Ah, nothing to worry about. Nothing at all. Would you go down to the market to buy some fish for supper? The morning catch should be in by now." He bent over and picked up the scattered mail at his feet.

I knew better than to argue when he was like this so I gathered the shopping basket and a small pouch of coins from the study. When the hobbit made up his mind to keep his peace he did so.

Since the hobbit hole had a fully stocked pantry and I knew Bilbo had gone down to the market just this morning I was concerned. He had always been a nervous person but this time it was different.

I strolled through the crowded market, enjoying the warm spring day and the soft grass against my bare feet. Even in my own world I hated to wear shoes, so living among the hobbits allowed me to embrace that quirk of mine.

A gentle breeze carried the sweet perfume of freshly blooming flowers, mixing harmonious with the scent of fresh hay and cooking meat.

At the fisherman's stall I collected two fish wrapped in butcher paper and then moved on. As I leaned over to examine a string of carrots, I recalled what Bilbo had been rambling on about and froze.

A wizard?

That could only mean one thing. My eyes darted around the teeming crowd of hobbits, searching for a tall figure in a gray pointed hat.

I finished my shopping and hurried back home at a quick clip. Dropping the basket on the table, I found Bilbo in the sitting room a book perched on his lap. "Did you say a wizard?"

The hobbit startled at my question. "I-uh, yes I did. Why do you ask?"

I dropped my gaze. "No reason."

So it was true. The events that occurred in the book were about to take place. I wondered what that would mean for me. Bilbo went on the journey with the dwarven company so I guess I would be stuck tending the house for a year.

The thought made me squirm in discomfort. I was grateful for the employment. Truly, I was. But I could not remain here forever. I had some thinking to do.

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Sitting at the bar of the Green Dragon, I nursed my ale listening to the singing and fiddling of the band with half an ear. The hobbits were used to me by now and left me to myself. Night had fallen not long ago so the dwarves would arrive soon. I had the evenings off from my duties and no interest in being caught in the chaos of the company's arrival.