Apologies, apologies
The birds chirped loudly as morning came. Light crept in through the circular window and smoke from a burnt-out candle decorated his room. Bilbo Baggins stirred awake as the light from the window kissed his face. He groaned, slowly waking himself up, then slowly remembered the events of last night. Memories of Dwarves, tales of gold and dragons, and a couple of magic users filled his head and he widened his eyes. Quietly, Bilbo pushed himself up out of bed and walked around the empty Hobbit hole. Only the noise of his leathery feet filled the halls.
“Hello?” He called out, expecting an answer.
The more he looked around, the more joy he felt. There were no Dwarves in his house! No Gandalf, no witch, no dangers that could await him from outside the Shire could dampen his mood now. He looked all around in the most peculiar of places, letting out a sigh of relief as he knew they were out of sight and out of mind. Although, he couldn’t shake off the feeling that he was missing something entirely. He walked to the hallway by the door again and patted his sides. His eyes landed on the contract, lying there on top of the wardrobe that was once in pieces just the night before.
A coo was heard behind him, and he swung around, only to be faced to face with a tawny owl.
“Oh, hello.” He greeted it.
The owl sat on a weird perch, blinking at him as if it were judging him. Bilbo gulped, sniffing as he looked at it. Why wasn’t it with the Witch? His eyes looked down to see a scroll tied to its foot and reached down slowly to untie it.
“Nice, bird,” He trailed off.
He successfully untied it and unrolled the scroll. Baggins, if you decide after all that you would like to join, then simply lift Favionus outside and follow him. If you do as expected, then just open the door and say “Reperio eam.” He lowered the scroll, eyebrows low, and looked at the owl as if it would say something more. Bilbo inhaled, turning on his heel to look back at the parchment on the dresser.
Suddenly, he had a change of thought.
—---------------------------
“I said it. Didn’t I say it? Coming here was a waste of time.”
The pack of Dwarves talked amongst themselves, dissing Bilbo and his likeness. Gandalf and the girl were on their horses walking side by side. The old wizard turned his head to look at the girl who had been silent throughout the whole ride. Her hair didn’t bother to be held back, hidden underneath her pointy hat that was pushed off her head. Her robe was swapped for a deep red one, her pants shown peeking through her robe, despite Gandalf’s advice on wearing skirts. Her eyes never left the gaze in front of her as if it was stuck, her head was empty as if she was kissed by a keeper of Azkaban.
“Little Witch,” Gandalf said, causing the girl to snap out of her trance. “You have barely said a word since you’ve stepped out for fresh air last night.”
The girl nodded, shrugging a little. “Nothing much to say, my friend.” She responded.
“You’ve asked me for years to explore my realm, and all you have to say is… ‘nothing much?’” He quirked a brow at her.
“I’m sorry, Gandalf,” She faltered. “I’m just waiting for Favionus to return is all.”
“As great of a witch you are, a liar you are not,” Gandalf prattled, shaking his head at the girl’s useless answer. “What did Bilbo say to you, dear girl?”
She scoffed, looking side to side, forcing a broken chuckle. “As if that little thing could say anything to bother me,” The Witch rolled her shoulders back and stood up straighter. “Besides, he won’t be bothering us now, right?”
“Wait!” She heard a whiny and annoying voice yell.
The two paused, pulling the reigns of their horses to look back to find where the yell came from. Favonius screeched, and the Witch snapped her head to the lovely noise. A smile broke onto her face and lowered her head as her owl landed on her back. She laughed, letting the owl crawl onto her shoulder. Her heart dropped with her smile when she saw a small halfling with a similar red coat to hers slowly make his way to them with a long parchment in hand.
“I signed it!” Bilbo beamed.
It was almost cute as he smiled, but first impressions go a long way, and The Witch knew how to hold a grudge. They all stared as he stood, some mouths dropping in disbelief. The Hobbit reached up to give Balin the contract. The old man gave Bilbo a look and pulled out some sort of glass monocle to inspect the contract for just a moment. Bilbo nodded as he did, eyes darting up to look at Gandalf and the Witch. She chewed the inside of her cheek as Bilbo stared at her, breaking eye contact to look over her sleepy owl.
“Everything appears to be in order,” Balin states, folding up the parchment. “Welcome, Master Baggins to the company of Thorin Oakenshield.”
Some Dwarves laugh at this, in pleasant shock that he arrived. Balin winked at the lad, the smile on his face gleaming. Bilbo grinned back, not knowing what to say. The pony Balin was on huffed, catching Bilbo’s attention fully.
“Give him a pony.” Thorin ordered.
“No, no, that won’t be necessary.” He reached his arm out in disagreement. “Thank you, I’m sure I can keep up on foot.” The rambling began as everyone began to start walking again, except the Witch. “I’ve done my fair share of walking holidays, you know? Even got as far as Frogmorton once– Ah!” Luckily, Fili and Kili grabbed his shoulders and lifted him onto a pony.
The Witch grinned at Bilbo’s visible discomfort on the poor thing and waited for Bilbo to be next to her before she started walking again. Bilbo clicked his tongue, looking up at the girl on her cooler, more majestic-looking horse.
“Well, Master Baggins, what a lovely pony,” She said innocently. “It kind of looks like you, yeah?”
His nose twitched. With the sun so high in the air, why was it when he looked at her, the sun behind her made her look like an angel– despite the annoying taunts? Or maybe she looked more like a fiery sun demon? Bilbo wasn’t sure, not even able to tell the difference. Though, then again, he did deserve it. He didn’t respond to her, only shot her a frown with pursed lips. She said nothing more and walked ahead of him.
“Come on, Nori, pay up!” Someone yelled.
They laughed, throwing pouches at each other while the Hobbit looked around in confusion.
“What’s that about?” He said when he was next to Gandalf.
“Oh, they took wagers on whether or not you’d show up.” The wizard explained as if it was nothing. “Most of them bet that you wouldn’t.”
“And what did you think?” Bilbo wondered.
“Well…” He trailed off, only to suddenly raise his hand to catch a pouch of coins. He laughed, throwing it up to catch it pridefully. “My dear fellow, I never doubted you for a second.
“And the…Witch?” He paused. “Oh, dear, I never even asked her name.” He muttered, almost slapping his forehead.
“Ah, who do you think threw me this lovely pouch?” He asked as he shoved it into his bag. “Why don’t you go up and ask her?”
Bilbo rolled his eyes. “Maybe I would, but she seems pretty taken with that Thorin Oaken–” Before he could finish his sentence, he burst into a loud sneeze. He groaned, “Oh, it’s horse hair. Having a reaction.” Bilbo explained and reached into his pocket. Panic set on his face as he patted around. “No, wait, wait, stop!” He yelled forward. “Stop! We have to turn around!”
Everyone froze, pulling the reins and turning to look at the Hobbit as if he was a fussy baby.
“What on Earth is the matter?” Gandalf questioned as he looked down at Bilbo.
“I forgot my handkerchief.” He disclosed in response.
“Here,” Bofur pulled a discolored-looking rag out of his pocket to throw at Bilbo. “Use this.”
He reached his hand up in the air to catch it, feeling uncomfortable with how damp it was for some reason. Others burst out laughing, and Bilbo looked at the girl to see if she was looking at him. A shit-eating grin sat on her face, not something as genuine as he remembered last night. That kind of grin she gave made him rethink apologizing to her later.
“Move on.” Thorin boomed, all of them walking on accordingly.
Bilbo squinted as the two talked for a moment, then began folding the odd handkerchief. Later, he got the tiniest of lectures from Gandalf about handkerchiefs and such as a way of readying him for the journey ahead. He tried his best with conversing with Gandalf and a few of the other Dwarves, but the guilt was eating up inside him. Every so often, he’d steal a glance at the Witch, but she was too wrapped up in her conversation with Thorin to notice. Gandalf, however, did and smiled every time he saw it. After an hour of silence from everyone out of boredom, Bilbo realized that the Witch was no longer wrapped up with the grumpy Dwarf. He could hear a melody, some sort of strumming on an instrument ahead.
“That’d be your cue,” Gandalf uttered lowly to the Hobbit, sucking on his weed pipe. “Make things right with my Witch.”
The Hobbit gulped, hesitating as he held the reins of his pony. He sniffed, rubbing his nose with his sleeve before picking up the pace to walk next to the Witch casually. As he made his way up, he looked around, avoiding her gaze as if he were invisible for a moment. The Witch squinted at his foolishness, rolling her eyes to continue strumming her instrument. The owl, Favonius, was asleep on her shoulder. Bilbo side-eyed the Witch sitting next to her and made a clicking noise with a sigh.
“What’s that?” He inquired, gesturing to the stringed contraption with his reigns still in hand. As he moved his hand to point, the pony jerked to the side until he returned his hand back. “Sorry, sorry,” Bilbo muttered.
The Witch had flinched at Bilbo’s pony nearly knocking into her horse, Favonius rustling awake as he did, but the Witch only shrugged in response.
“You’ve never seen a guitar before?” She quirked an eyebrow.
“Well, of course, I’ve seen one before, just not one so…” He trailed off. “Big.”
The girl said nothing, shrugging as he talked. Bilbo felt uncomfortable with her silence. Had it been last evening, she would’ve quipped a snarky remark at him like it was nothing. He gulped again, a hum blurting from his throat. His mind raced as they walked in silence. Should he apologize now? Should he compliment her instrument?
“It sounds quite nice, big and all.” He stammered, not quite sure what he was trying to say.
“Master Baggins,” Thorin interrupted. “If you have something to say, then just say it. It’s pitiful watching you.”
“Oh, leave him alone, Thorin.” The Witch waved him off. “He knows not what he says.”
Bilbo sniffed, wiggling his nose. He nearly forgot that Thorin was walking beside her as well. He coughed before he opened his mouth, “I’m sorry about what I said before. I didn’t think before I spoke, I usually do, I’m sorry.” Bilbo trailed off. “You know, I shouldn’t make excuses, but it’s just…I was very tired last night.”
The Witch blinked at him, deciding that he was genuine. Meh, he’s alright. She knew that the Hobbit didn’t like her much, but perhaps with the respect he’d given her, she can tolerate him.
“Alright, alright,” She spoke up, trying to get him to stop rambling. “I get it. It’s alright.”
Silence overtook them, despite the strumming of her guitar. An itch was felt in the back of Bilbo’s head, however. The music she quietly played sounded foreign, the more the melody carried on, the more Bilbo’s itch ached.
“You know, I never caught your name.” He implied, looking up at the girl.
She stopped abruptly, hitting the strings with a flat hand. “I never threw it, Baggins.”
“Bilbo. You can call me Bilbo.” His voice was barely above a whisper.
“Names are a powerful thing, Bilbo,” She drawled. “I don’t intend to share mine with someone who I’ve met so soon– someone who I don’t even know likes me very much.”
“I…” Bilbo furrowed his eyebrows, finding that an odd choice. That Witch, he couldn’t get wrap a finger around her. He looked at his hands while in thought. She was just so…odd. He’d never met a witch before, but from the stories he’s heard, he thought they were more…
“Ugly and evil?”
Bilbo’s head snapped up, face burning as he realized he’d been speaking out loud. “Er, I was going to say mean and scary.”
She raised an eyebrow again and smirked. “You don’t think I’m mean and scary?”
“Oh, you have your moments.” He nervously joked and chuckled lightly.
“But you do think I’m odd.” The Witch’s eyes squinted, but her smile stuck to her face.
He stuttered as he formed a sentence, “Well, not you in particular.”
“But I have my moments.” She added, putting her guitar away behind her.
Bilbo tilted his head o the side, pursing his lips. “Well, I’d hate to just say ‘Witch” all the time. What about a nickname?” He suggested.
At this, her head tilted side to side and she sighed. “What do you have in mind?” She turned her head to stare at the short halfling.
He thought for a moment, “Bird?” He said with uncertainty.
Her face twisted– it looked like a frown, but it was as if she was biting back a laugh. Other Dwarves around them let out some chuckles that made the Hobbit look around in confusion. It was then he realized how easy it was for everyone could hear them– no private conversations were allowed.
“Okay,” He huffed. “Myrtle?”
The Witch frowned, the name felt unfitting for someone like her. “Ehhh.” She droned, shoulders tensing. “Think the name would be more fitting for your pony.”
Bilbo looked down at the pony he sat upon and hummed. If he couldn’t figure out a name for the Witch, at least he had one for…Myrtle. He smiled at that but frowned when he had no luck with the Witch.
“Do you have any ideas then?” He asked the girl.
“You could just call me ‘Witch,’ I have no problem with it.” She sighed when he seemed to have given up.
“What’re your thoughts on Tawny?” Bilbo blurted.
“Like the owl? My owl?” The Witch was taken aback. She hummed, replaying the way he said. “Say it again, call me it.” She ordered.
“Uh,” He hesitated, stuttering at the odd demand. “Could you play a song on that guitar of yours, Tawny?”
“Why, of course, Master Bilbo, if only my Master commands it.” She rolled her eyes and reached back to turn the guitar back in front of her.
Bilbo fought the urge to roll his eyes at her, her sarcastic behavior must’ve returned. He almost liked the silence she stuck with– if only she was like that all the time. Nevertheless, he said nothing and listened to her as she quietly strummed the strings of her guitar.
Nighttime arrived later than Bilbo had wanted, not yet used to the slow moments of riding a pony for miles and miles. It was after dinner, they had taken shelter in a cave up a hill. Bilbo was trying his best to get some rest after the journey, but with Bombur’s snoring, he could only toss and turn. He looked up in exasperation, seeing him inhale and exhale little butterflies as he snored. The Hobbit groaned, sighing in frustration before throwing off his covers.
Gandalf was off to the side, so close by, but his eyes were far away while he inhaled on his weed pipe. Bilbo stretched once he got up, nodding his head at Fili and Kili as he walked by. Thorin looked tired, leaning against a bolder silently, so Bilbo made an extra effort to be quiet. He looked back, making sure no one was paying him any mind, then reached out into his pocket as he walked toward Myrtle.
“Hello, girl,” He greeted the pony. “Who’s a good girl?” He rubbed her muzzle gently.
The Witch sat on the edge of the cliff overlooking the surroundings. It was peaceful being able to sit quietly without being bothered by any worrying wizards, loud Dwarves, and odd Hobbits. Her peace was suddenly crushed when she heard whispering behind her, causing her to flinch and turn her body to look around. My Gods, that Hobbit was light on his feet. She thought. Her gaze rested on Bilbo pulling a hand out of his pocket to reveal a nice and shiny apple.
“It’s our little secret, Myrtle,” He hushed as he fed it to his pony. “You must tell no one, sh- shh!”
The Witch smiled at him, finding it nice how he slipped a good apple to the pony. It was almost sweet. “I saw that.” She whispered loud enough for the Hobbit to hear.
Bilbo jumped slightly, looking up to see the Witch smiling genuinely at him. “Tawny!” He gulped, voice raising slightly. She raised a finger to her lips and hushed him. He shut his mouth and blinked hard.
“At ease, I’m just messing with you, little man.” She turned back to the view of the woods and Bilbo smiled at her.
The sound of screeches could be heard from the distance, causing Bilbo’s face to drop and the Witch to hoist herself up to her feet. She shuffled back as the noise got more persistent.
“What was that?” Bilbo pointed out as he looked at Fili and Kili.
“Orcs,” Kili answered softly.
The Witch and the Hobbit made haste back to the group, eyes wide in dismay. Thorin sat up straight and listened to the disturbing screeches of the orcs.
“Orcs?” Tawny faltered.
“Throat cutters. There’ll be dozens of them out there,” Fili informed, sucking on his own kind of pipe. “The lone-lands are crawling with them.”
“They strike in the wee small hours when everyone’s asleep,” Kili added. “Quick and quiet, no screams. Just lots of blood.”
The Witch looked at Gandalf, finally remembering a story he told of them some time ago. Sad creatures, she recalled. She felt sick, yanking her gaze away from the old man who only stared in silence. Fili and Kili exchanged a look and chuckled to themselves when the two looked out to the forest.
“You think that’s funny?” Thorin groused, getting up. The two spun around to look at Thorin and his kin. “You think a night raid by Orcs is a joke?”
“We didn’t mean anything by it,” Kili mumbled.
“No, you didn’t.” Thorin walked through the halfling and the witch. “You know nothing of the world.”
“Don’t mind him, laddie.” Balin assured. “Thorin has more cause than most to hate Orcs.”
Fili looked back at Thorin who stood near the ponies. Balin began a story, and the Witch moved to sit down as he did.
“After the dragon took the Lonely Mountain, King Thror tried to take back the ancient Dwarf kingdom of Moria.”
As Balin continued, the girl could almost close her eyes and imagine the story vividly as if she were there. She imagined the disgustingly terrible Orc, Azog, and shivered. She turned her head to stare at Thorin. Her admiration for him solidified, doing her best to understand Thorin’s backstory of his name. The darkness of it made Tawny gulp and Bilbo lean in wonder.
Thorin turned, eyes shooting daggers at the Witch. Dwarves stood in front of him once he turned as if they were waiting for him. Uncomfortably, she looked away and pretended that she was intently looking at Balin the entire time. He walked past them toward the group by the fire.
“And the Pale Orc?” Bilbo questioned. “What happened to him?”
“He slunk back into the hole whence he came.” Thorin spat with venom on his tongue, walking past them. “That filth died of his wounds long ago.”
The Witch stared at the ground, hastily moving to sit down on a rock, mildly freaking out at the fact that there were such violent creatures here– especially ones so nearby. Perhaps she did jump the gun signing her name so quickly on the contract. If she stayed next to Gandalf, he wouldn’t let any orcs get by her, right? Or maybe Thorin, but they had only met yesterday. Fili and Kili would definitely step in– many of the Dwarves would. She looked up to see Bilbo with a confused expression on his face, her nose crinkled and her eyebrows lowered, suddenly feeling sick to her stomach. She could probably defend herself, though, it's not like she was helpless. However, the reality of her situation sunk in, and she stood up with her hand on her stomach and walked into the forest with her wand in hand.
“Lumos.” She said, wand brightening up the area around her.
She walked for a few minutes, not wanting to embarrass herself in front of the company. The Witch wanted to show them that she was a carefree and powerful witch, but she was scared out of her mind at that. She’s never heard a campfire tale that rocked her to her core, but this one made her want to puke– that, and the odd stew they ate earlier helped. She finally stopped for a moment to rest her hands on a rocky plateau on the hill they set up camp on. The Witch took a few deep breaths with her head down and arms stretched out.
“Holy,” She started before beginning to curse like a sailor under her breath. The Witch nearly laughed, letting out a shaky breath as she exhaled.
The calming hooting of nocturnal animals accompanied her, the nerves slowly easing. Sometimes the silence of everything was enough to make her relax.
“Tawny?”
Without hesitation, the Witch spun around to the noise, “Levicorpus!” She gasped out an incantation at the figure.
A certain Hobbit yelped as he was suddenly yanked off of his feet, spun upside down, and dangled in the air. Bilbo’s arms waved around as he levitated in the air.
“Bilbo!” As she realized it was him, her face grew into a relieved smile.
“Down!” He simply shouted in fear. “Put me down!”
Her hand flung to her chest and she threw her head back in a fit of laughter at the sight. Bilbo’s face soured, This’ll be the last time I go and check up on her. He thought bitterly. Tawny yanked her wand upward and let the Hobbit fall onto his back, an ‘oomph!’ was heard from him when he made contact with the ground. A few more giggles escaped her walking toward the burglar to help him up. Once he got to his feet, he jerked himself out of her grasp and brushed himself off. Her smile dropped as he yanked himself away.
“What?” She looked dumbfounded.
The burglar said nothing, only patting off his coat in response. Perhaps he should consider that he did sneak up on her, so he turned to her once he cleared his throat.
“Are you alright?” He hummed, raising his chin.
“Wh,” She stuttered, trying to seem as calm and collected as possible. “Yes, yes, of course.” She forced herself to frown. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
Bilbo scoffed, turning to walk back toward camp, before raising his hands as he looked back at her. “I was just checking.” He bleated.
“Well, you don’t need to get all moody.” Tawny frowned.
“I’m not,” He stuttered impatiently before turning his hands splayed to points. “I’m not getting moody.”
She shoved his hands away from her direction, “Don’t point at me, that’s rude.” The banter between the two began.
Bilbo squinted at her, “Rude? You just flung me into the air and dropped me like a sack of ‘tatoes.” One hand returned to his side, but the other raised to shake his pointer finger at her.
“Well, you just snuck up on me like some criminal, of course, I’m going to be frightened– Do– not– shake that finger at me, Bilbo Baggins!” Tawny pushed his hand away once more, and he retaliated by pointing the other at her to piss her off even more.
“You laughed at me, Tawny the... The Witch!” He retorted.
“Oh, yeah, that was very clever.” She mocked, stomping away from him.
The Hobbit followed after her, hands finding themselves on his hips as he did. “Yeah, it’s no matter. I forgive you, no pressure.” Bilbo said in a holier-than-thou tone.
The girl’s face scowled at his obvious sarcasm, picking up her speed to get closer to camp.
“I just wanted to see if you were okay, is all. Next time I’ll just, you know, remember to not care.” He stuttered as he spoke, but that didn’t stop him from ‘putting it out there.’
She stopped suddenly, turning on her heel to look down at him. His lips quickly formed a thin line at the proximity, swallowing hard as she glared down at him. Bilbo avoided her freezing-cold gaze for a moment before pursing his lips again and looking up.
“And do you?” She scorned, raising a brow at the shorter man.
He hummed, eyebrows raised as if didn’t hear her right. “I’m sorry?” He craned his head forward like an idiot.
Tawny’s scowl turned into a frown, “Care?”
The Hobbit stood there for a few seconds. “Do I care?” he repeated. The question went in through one ear and out the other, so he took another moment to reprocess what she said. “To an extent?” His answer sounded uncertain.
She shook her head, doing a double take at his words. “Why?” She rethought her words. “Why? Why do you care?”
“It’s just that,” He backtracked. “I thought maybe we were done with the nearly-loathing phase?”
“It’s been a day.” Tawny deadpanned.
Bilbo shrugged at this. He was just trying to be nice, but she’s just an asshole. Bilbo said in his head, not daring to say it out loud. But I guess that's what she must've thought last night. “Does it matter?”
Tawny’s expression didn’t soften or harden. Her head shifted from side to side before she said anything more, “You’re…okay.” She finalized, spinning on her heel to continue walking.
Okay? Bilbo was taken aback. Just okay? His feet carried him after her, not knowing what to say after that. As they got back, she paused before turning the corner. She didn’t look at him, but her hand stayed on the side of the wall next to them.
“I’m sorry for throwing you, sort of. For dropping you and such. Thank you…” If Bilbo had not been so sensitive to hearing, he may not have heard what she said. “For ‘caring.’ Nox.” The light emitting from her wand flickered out before she walked around the corner.
The Hobbit stood there for a few seconds more to process what had happened just now. He blinked hard, wiggling his nose a little. The smallest of smiles appeared on his face, and he took out his weed pipe for a quick smoke. Once the pipe was lit, he held it in his hand up to his mouth and turned the corner to the fireplace. Most of everyone was asleep, the Dwarves huddled in a group off to the side, Gandalf and the Witch were getting situated close together, and Fili and Kili were resting their eyes by the fireplace. Bilbo hummed at the sight, flicking his gaze to the Witch who was looking back at him.
They shared a moment to just look at each other, both mutually thinking about how odd the other was, before she tore her gaze away to get some rest. Bilbo, blowing a ring of smoke out from his mouth, nodded his head and walked past them to return to his covers as well.
Tomorrow was going to be a long day.