4. Midnight Snack

A growling sound awoke Bombur in the middle of the night.  He shifted and tried to go back to sleep only to have it growl again.  His stomach was most upset with him for leaving it unfilled and growled its displeasure.  His mouth felt tasteless.  Visions of cake and jam and steaming, juicy roasted pork rolled behind his eyelids.  He scrunched his eyes and tried to think of something else but still couldn't sleep.  He shifted again, not an easy task with his own weight wrapped around him like a giant rubber blanket.

It would be easier to sleep once he was thinner, he told himself.  He could turn over without it being a major effort.  He wouldn't spend so much on food.  He would fit his favorite gold belt again, the one with Erebor worked in onyx and silver on the buckle.  Bifur and Bofur wouldn't nag him.

"Grararrrrrararglglglglllllgrooo," his stomach reminded him.

"You had dinner," he told it.

"Gaaaarrglweeeee?" it whimpered, ending on a long high note.  

What was a Dwarf to do?  Surely one small snack wouldn't make any difference, and his stomach would be appeased so he could sleep.  After gathering himself for a moment, he heaved to his feet, dragging a blanket around his nightshirt for warmth.

"Groooooo," his stomach grumbled impatiently.

"Yes, yes," he whispered. "I hear you. Now be quiet or we'll wake someone up.  You'll have something soon enough."

Walking as quietly as he could he made his was across the bedchamber and into his parlour, then around the corner towards the pantry.  He'd had the generously sized walk-in pantry added to his rooms decades ago "just in case" - after all, one never knew when some new calamity might befall the Mountain to interrupt food supplies.   It was well-stocked and familiar. The pitch dark didn't even make him pause.

***

Snuggled deep into his covers in Glóin's suite, Bilbo had been dreaming he was back home in the Shire, walking and walking as he went up and down the strangely endless stone hallways of what he thought was Bag End.  There were an inordinate number of Dwarves visiting this time, he thought.  Dwarves in every room, boots all over his floor.  He was going to need a lot of provender to feed them all.   He went looking for a pantry to tally up what he had on hand but there was a strange noise in the darkness. He suddenly realized a fat Dwarf was in his pantry, eating everything up.

'No, no, no!' he cried out in his dream. 'If you eat all that, I'll have nothing to serve them for breakfast! Put that down…!'

Nuh…nuh…," he mumbled against his pillow then suddenly sat up with a snort, blinking around the darkness of the curtained niche his bed was tucked into. "A pantry!"

He was certain a gourmand like Bombur must have one, maybe more than one, and close at hand to wherever he would spend his time.  That would include his bedroom.  The more Bilbo thought about it the more certain he was.  Shaking away the last threads of his dream, he pondered whether it was worth doing something about, and whether to wait until morning.  No, he thought, Bombur would hide any evidence.  All their efforts to trim back on his appetite would be for naught if he simply filled back up in the nighttime.

He slid out of bed to the cool floor, pulling a woolen blanket throw with him as a shawl.  Somewhere in the darkness he could hear Glóin's son, Gimli, breathing deeply in his sleep.  He carefully padded out of the suite and slid out into the main hallway with all the stealth he could manage.  Grateful he had paid attention to a brief tour his friends had given him when he arrived, he silently slipped along the corridors and steps to Bifur's rooms, where he carefully whisked inside and followed the sound of muffled snoring to Bifur's own bedroom.  

The curtain that kept the chill from the room was a heavy one.  He hesitated one more time, then firmed his resolve and pushed through it, sidling up to the thickly blanketed bed.  He stood by Bifur's head and considered, trying to decide how best to wake the old Dwarf up.  

Bifur snored and then shifted to face Bilbo, smacking his lips briefly.  The hobbit leaned in closer and lifted a hand, intending to give his friend's shoulder a little shake.

"Gaw-wah-ha!" gargled Bifur suddenly and they both jumped. His eyes wide, he flailed at his bedcovers, struggling away from Bilbo in only partly-waking fear.  "Gah…ah… uh?"

"Bifur, it's Bilbo. Bilbo Baggins. So sorry to wake you, but I've had a thought…."

"Uh." Bifur said, smoothing his wild beard with a hand and still clutching his blankets. He wasn’t listening. "Guh…What were you doing, sneaking up on me like that? Thought you were a ghost!"

"…a ghost?" Bilbo frowned at the interruption. "Don't be ridiculous. Now…"

"Your hair is all white, you know, and so is your nightshirt." Bifur continued defensively.

Bilbo gave him an impatient look. "Well, look here, yours has a fair bit of white in it too these days.  What was I supposed to do, wear a wig just to wake you up?"

Bifur patted his chest as if to check that his heart was still beating and returned to his first question. "What are you doing here?  It's the middle of the night, and you're floating around like some kind of apparition…"

"I don't float." Bilbo crossed his arms. "And if you would listen, I was telling you.  I have reason to believe that Bombur has food stashed away in his rooms, most likely in a pantry of some sort.  It won't do us a bit of good to work at keeping him off meals in the daytime if he eats all night long to make up for it.  You need to go check up on him."

Bifur scrubbed at his head, making his hair fluff up.  He took a deep breath and let it out slowly.  Bilbo waited.  Bifur took in another breath then gave the hobbit a nod.  "All right, all right. But you come with me."

The pantry was cool, expertly cut into the rock.  Confidently his plump fingers felt their way across the polished marble shelves, settling on a generous bowl of boiled eggs and the soft floury feel of a tray of baked goods.  He paid well to have this pantry always kept full and fresh, something he was certain his well-intentioned cousins had forgotten about.  He was determined to put up with their restrictions during the day, which would surely be more than was needed for the purpose, but who could be expected to sleep without a proper dinner for ballast?

He sniffed at the soft crust he'd pulled from the shelf, finding oversized currant tarts. The scent that made his mouth water even more.  Most of the goods he bought from the bakers were oversized, often custom-made just for him, and tarts kept especially well.  He started to lift the entire tray, then guiltily settled for stuffing one tart into each of the pockets on his nightshirt.  Eggs would be harder to carry, he rationalized as he toted out the entire bowlful.  

"Grarrrgarrgaraaaaaaaabblblblbl," rumbled his midsection in anticipation.  He carefully turned around in the pantry and navigated his way back out.  Normally he would have plumped down on the nearest chair and finished off his nighttime snack, leaving the cleaning up to his housekeeping staff, but imagining his cousin's castigation if he were to be discovered made him hesitate and waddle back towards his bedroom instead.

He didn't waddle quite fast enough.  Quite suddenly he realized there was someone else in the room and they were moving to block his way.  

"Bom-bur!"came the warning voice of his cousin.  Bifur, clad only in his nightshirt with a furry robe wrapped over him, stood before him.  "What do you think you are doing with that food?"

"I'm hungry," Bombur said pulling his arms, still holding the bowl of eggs, in front of himself in an attempt to hide the pies. The lighting was quite dim, being only the embers of the fire faintly seen through the doorway to his parlour.

"You promised."

Bombur clutched his bowl guiltily.  "I said I would cut back on my meals, I never said anything about my little bedtime snack…"

Bifur stepped forward and took the bowl from his hands.  "Eggs," he noted.

"They're my eggs," Bombur pointed out. "I paid for them."

"Then I'll keep them safe for you," Bifur replied firmly. "You may have some of them for breakfast in the morning."

"What, only some?  But Bifur…"  Bombur was strangely caught between being indignant at this invasion of his privacy and being guilty about what they both knew had been a sneaky cheat on his agreement.  He opened his mouth to argue but closed it again as another thought came to him.  "If you say so," he finished, suddenly meek and agreeable.

Bifur cocked his head at him, suspicious.  "Are there more eggs?"

"Only what you took from me," he sulked.

"Very well then.  Go back to bed." He stepped aside and indicated the way to the bedroom.  Bombur waddled past.

"I assume you can show yourself out," he grumbled at his unwelcome visitors. He turned the corner into his room and hurried towards his bed, fishing in his pockets for the tarts.  Glancing back to be sure Bifur hadn't followed him, he pulled one out and bit off the corner triumphantly.

"Hullo, care to share?" Bilbo asked, popping up from where he was leaning on the bed.  Bombur almost choked as he realized the hobbit had probably been rummaging around in the room while Bifur was confiscating the eggs.  Sure enough, his generous hidden rations of dried apples, raisin-cakes and biscuits sat in the middle of the room, still in its bag.  

"Mff! What are you doing here?"

Bifur spoke dryly from the doorway. "He's a smart one, our Burglar."

"Former burglar," Bilbo clarified quickly.

"He figured out you had a treasure-trove of food stashed away.  Good timing, too."

"The pie," Bilbo said, holding out his hand.  Bombur grimaced and reluctantly handed it over. Bilbo gave him a small bow and leaned down to scoop up the woven handle on the bag. "I have it," he called to Bifur. "And his hidden stash as well. I think our beloved friend can sleep peacefully now, knowing all of his foodstuffs are in safe hands."  

Bifur grunted from the doorway and turned to go.  Bombur was surprised to feel the hobbit's hand quietly slipping the bitten pie back into his.  "Trade you for the unbitten one," Bilbo's voice whispered.  

Bombur's face turned to a smile and he quickly pulled the other from his pocket.  "Gladly," he whispered back.  

"Grooiiig," his stomach added in gratitude.

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