Twelve dwarves and one wizard were currently in Bilbo Baggins hobbit hole.

Bilbo did not like this one bit, and from the conversation he was hearing, there was at least one more coming.

"She is late." Gandalf said to no one in particular.

"She traveled to the Iron Hills for a meeting of our kin. She will come." Dwalin said, smiling slightly to himself at the thought of Theresa.

Meanwhile,  in the other room, Bilbo was being made fun of in a song.

Blunt the knives bend the forks

Smash the bottles and burn the corks

Chip the glasses and crack the plates

That's what Bilbo Baggins hates!

Cut the cloth and tread the fat

Leave the bones on the bedroom mat

Pour the milk on the pantry floor

Splash the wine on every door

Dump the crocks in a boiling bowl

Pound them up with a thumping pole

And when you're finished

If any are whole

Send them down the hall to roll

That's what Bilbo Baggins hates!

Three loud knocks on the door silenced every one and caused Dwalin to sit up a little straighter.

"She is here." Gandalf said.

"Who?" Bilbo asked, confused.

Dwalin was the only one to remain sitting when the wizard went to open the door.

"Mr. Baggins,  meet the leader of the company, Theresa Oakenshield." Gandalf said.

Bilbo wasn't sure how to react to the woman in front of him.

She was unlike any dwarf ever. She had taken to shaving her beard in the past few years due to the fact it got in her way and she wanted to be different.

Her icy blue eyes were sizing up the hobbit in front of her, who was standing there staring at her.

"He looks more of a grocer than a burglar." Theresa smirked, causing him to blush deep red and the other dwarves to laugh.

She went into the room where the table was and saw Dwalin, who stood and kissed the back of her hand.

"Hello my lady." he said quietly.

All the other dwarves were silent as they watched the exchange.

"Hello Dwalin," she smiled warmly, hugging him. "I'm glad you're here."

He hesitated before hugging her back.

They all sat down and discussed reclaiming Erebor.

Everyone was arguing and Theresa lost it.

"Enough!! If we argue amongst ourselves, we are seen as weak, do you want others to claim our home while we sit back and bicker? Isn't it bad enough we are ridiculed for your choice in trusting me? Would you stand there while others claim what is rightfully ours?"

That got them working together and cheering, ready to go.

Later that evening, they were all gathered in the living room.

Far over the misty mountains cold

To dungeons deep and caverns old

We must away ere break of day

To seek the pale enchanted gold.

The dwarves of yore made mightly spells,

While hammers fell like ringing bells

In places deep, where dark things sleep,

In hollow halls beneath the fells.

For ancient king and elvish lord

There many a gleaming golden hoard

They shaped and wrought, and light they caught

To hide in gems on hilt of sward.

On silver necklaces they strung

The flowering stars, on crowns they hung

The dragon-fire, in twisted wire

They meshed the light of moon and sun.

Far over the misty mountains cold

To dungeouns deep and caverns old

We must away, ere break of day,

To claim our long-forgotten gold.

Goblets they carved there for themselves

And harps of gold; where no man delves

There lay they long, and many a song

Was sung unheard by men or elves.

The pines were roaring on the height,

The winds were moaning in the night,

The fire was red, it flaming spread;

The trees like torches blazed with light.

The bells were ringing in the dale

And men looked up with faces pale;

The dragon’s ire more fierce than fire

Laid low their towers and houses frail.

The mountain smoked beneath the moon;

The dwarves, they heard the tramp of doom.

They fled their hall to dying fall

Beneath his feet, beneath the moon.

Far over the misty mountains grim

To dungeons deep and caverns dim

We must away, ere break of day,

To win our harps and gold from him!

The pines were roaring on the height,

The winds were moaning in the night,

The fire was red, it flaming spread;

The trees like torches blazed with light.

The bells were ringing in the dale

And men looked up with faces pale;

The dragon’s ire more fierce than fire

Laid low their towers and houses frail.

Bilbo was staring at the dwarf queen once again, but her gaze never met his. Her eyes were locked with Dwalin's,  and he was across the room from her.

She shook her head sadly,  and ordered them all to get some sleep.