The Hobbit & Lord of the Rings -oneshots II

Manners - Bilbo

Warnings: yelling and bit of threats
Word count: 1089
Other: -
Requested: Nope

The dwarves cause a mess at Bag End, and the reader, upon returning, is horrified by the state of their home. Dwalin learns not to underestimate women smaller than him.

Bilbo watched, helpless as the dwarves continued to carry food out of his pantry, the shelves growing empty, one after another. All of the food was stacked onto the table that had been moved to accommodate all the dwarves, some of them already seated at the table, having heated conversations while the others continued to set the table and carry food to it. He had tried resisting, but the dwarves had barely batted an eye, so he had given up, accepting his fate.

But when one of the dwarves found the browning bottle at the back of the pantry, he jumped up, trying to yank it off the hands of the dwarf.
"No. You do not touch this one." Even though the dwarf tried tugging the bottle back, Bilbo did not let go. He couldn't.
"Why not? It's just a bottle, laddie, I'll get you a new one." The dwarf spoke with an amused tone, like the resistance of the hobbit was somehow entertaining to him.
"It's not just a bottle." Bilbo resisted, clenching his jaw and pulling with all his might.
"It was a gift from Y/N's late father, we are to open it when we have kids." The dwarf let go of the bottle after hearing his words. Bilbo, who had not expected it, fell down, pressing the bottle to his chest to protect it from breaking. The dwarf looked at him laying on the floor for a moment before shortly bowing.
"My apologies." And then he was gone, off raiding his pantry again.

As he squeezed the bottle in his hands as his life depended on it, Bilbo thought that the worst was behind him. But little did he know, it was ahead. The dwarves had finally gathered all the food they desired on the table that was groaning under the weight. The moment they all sat down, it was chaos, food being passed around and flying all over, laughter and burbs so loud that Bilbo was sure they could be heard outside. Bilbo was scandalized, having never witnessed such ill-mannered people in his life.

- -

The feast had left the room in a state that was hard to describe. There was food everywhere, except on the plates that were strewn around the table. The dwarves were laying in their chairs, hazy from the meal. Bilbo winced as the last chicken wing flew across the room, being caught by Bombur. He was too afraid to see the full extent of the mess but was thankful that his clothes had been spared from most of it. The vest he was wearing had been hand embroidered by you, and it was one of his favorite pieces of clothing.
"What has happened here?!" A shocked voice cut through the air, interrupting the dwarves' conversations.

A female hobbit stood in the doorway, her hands on her hips as she took in the state of the house. Her eyes lingered in the gravy that had spilled all over the floor to the muddy footprints on the rug.
"Darling, I tried to stop them-" You interrupted Bilbo with a gentle kiss to his lips as he hurried through the room to you.
"I can clearly see that this is not your fault. I was asking our guests." The sharpness of the words cut through the air like a knife, and few of the dwarves glanced at each other, either in slight shame or amusement. When none of them explained, you shook your head.
"Whatever the reason, you are going to help us clean. And you better not stop until our house is spotless." Your hands were still propped on your waist, your expression cold and calm as you stared the dwarves down.
"Who are you to tell us what to do?" Dwalin was the first one to open his mouth, peering down at you from his spot from the doorway.

You stormed forward, hissing like an angry goose. You showed no fear as she stood in front of the dwarf that was a head taller than you, poking his chest with your finger.
"Who am I to tell you what to do? I am the owner of this house." You started whacking Dwalin wherever you could reach with the towel she had been carrying on your waist.
"So - you - better - do - as - I - ask - or - help - you - Eru." Each word was accentuated with a blow, and Dwalin, helpless against your attack, was forced to back down, desperately trying to avoid the strikes. He soon ran out of room and was forced to press his back against the wall all the while trying to cover away from your strikes that just seemed to gather more and more strength.
"Okay, okay, we'll clean, we'll clean!" He raised his arms in surrender and you finally seized your attack, nodding in contentment.
"Good. You can get water from the well from our yard and soap and rags are in the cleaning cupboard."

The dwarves began cleaning under your watchful eye. Most of them started in the kitchen, trying to get the stains off the floor and walls, but some of them set to work on the mats and the clumps of mud that had gotten stuck into them. You had removed the curtains from their rods and piled them in baskets according to the temperature they needed to be washed in, and some dwarves set to washing them, their large hands gently rubbing the delicate fabric clean.

To say Thorin was surprised to find his kin cleaning was an understatement. His eyes darted around as he watched his kinsmen scrubbing clean the carpets under your watchful eye.
"Gandalf. What on earth happened here?" The wizard turned around, a hastily hidden smile on his lips.
"Your people learned that you do not underestimate hobbit ladies when it comes to the tidiness of their home." Thorin looked at you, your hands on your hips as you observed the dwarves working. A call for your name sounded from inside, and you turned, hurrying towards the sound of the voice.

Just something sweet that I thought of one evening.
I think I have twelve new ideas from the marathon me and my roommate had, so I am not running out of my own ideas in a while.