A Shot in the Dark (Thilbo - Bagginshield)

Chapter 3

It was not only Thorin that he found himself struggling to win over. He noticed Gandalf had been watching him with that same look he used to (and eventually would again) give Meriadoc Brandybuck, and Peregrin Took whenever they got too close to the fireworks. He was expecting such a look, but that didn't mean he enjoyed being mistrusted by his oldest friend.

"Mister Bilbo, would you like to taste the soup?" Bombur asked, pulling him from his thoughts. The redhead sat before a large pot, stirring it with slanted brows and pursing lips. Bombur had always taken his cooking very seriously.

"Of course." The Hobbit carefully took the ladle handed to him and sipped the soup. It was a simple meal of meat and broth, but the spices brought it to life. "Delicious. Do I detect a hint of parsley?"

Bombur beamed. "Aye. Parsley and basil to bring out the lamb. I believe I detected rosemary in the beef you served us, yes?"

"Yes, from my mother's herb garden. She was an excellent cook and had a way with plants. After her death, I took over the garden care, but I'm afraid I lack real skills. It is enough that I keep them alive at all."

"I'm sure your mother appreciated the sentiment," interjected Bofur, flopping down between the two in a graceless heap. He hijacked the ladle from Bilbo and finished the rest of the soup in one gulp. "Mmm. I'd say it's ready to be served," he informed his brother, handing the spoon back. "Shall we call the others?"

"Not until Mister Bilbo gets his portion," Bombur declared fiercely, scooping soup into a clay bowl. "The rest will devour the soup without any mind to our smaller comrades."

Bofur nodded in agreement while the Hobbit in question scowled.

"You do not need to treat me any different from the others," he protested. "I may be a Hobbit, but that does not mean I'm so different from the rest of you. I don't need special treatment."

Bombur ignored his words and handed him a bowl. "Here you go. Eat up now."

"Don't bother arguing with him. Once Bombur makes up his mind, he sticks with it," Bofur explained as he grabbed a bowl and held it out.

"Hey, are you eating without us?"

Fili and Kili joined them around the stew pot, both slightly out of breath from sparring. Most of their Company had been watching them, yelling suggestions, or cheering them on. Bilbo recalled them doing such a thing often the last time around though he couldn't remember if there was ever a winner.

"Why did you start serving without telling me? You know how hungry I get kicking Fili around," Kili complained, reaching over to swipe a taste of Bilbo's soup with two fingers.

"Hey! Didn't your mother ever tell you that it's rude to put your fingers in other people's food?" he complained, attempting to smack the wandering fingers with his spoon only to miss.

Kili widened his eyes and bit his lower lip in a manner that he recognized all too easily. He remembered the young Dwarf pulling such a move to get his way or makeup whenever he did something foolish. Unfortunately for him, that face only worked on his brother and uncle and sometimes Dwalin.

"Don't even try those eyes on me. I lived among baby Hobbits. Come near me again, and I'll crack your fingers," he warned, waving his spoon to get his point across.

Long lost friend or not, you did not come between a Hobbit and his meal.

"Looks like our burglar has a pair after all," Fili snickered as he got a bowl of stew instead of trying to steal one.

"Obviously. How else could Mister Bilbo have talked back to Thorin?" Bofur pointed out.

"And join us on our quest against a dragon," reminded Bombur.