Baggins of Bag End

"And, you are short. terribly short. An baby is taller than you." He mutters, turning around. "I did not arrange this Mr. Baggins. My father did, for some unknown, sickening reason! Yet, I will not go against him. Hate me, call me a snob. I do not care."

"I am perfectly sized for a hobbit. Just because I am not your wonderful elven race doesn't mean that I am short." He snorts back. "If it weren't for my nephew, I wouldn't be here either. I only wish for what is best for my kin. Even if I have to deal with you."

Thorin nodded, handing Bilbo a clean bowl, “I ate earlier, please, help yourself.” Moving the pot to where Bilbo could serve himself up some soup, “I must say this soup is probably some of Bofur’s best.”

Bilbo gives a stiff nod to the man, not knowing what else to say. "If you say so." He murmurs, grasping at the spoon and pouring a large amount into his bowl. His mouth already begins to water at the smell. "I don't know-- He does have really good fish as well." He states, remembering the tasty food from before. "Do you-- What is your favorite meal?"

"Now aren’t you something, something small that is."

Bilbo tries to keep a look of disdain from forming on his face, yet he couldn’t help but let it shine through. “You dwarves are much to stubborn.” He mutters to him, letting out a sigh. “You won’t budge on this will you?”

           ”Stubborn and proud to be so, and no. I won’t budge, you best give up now. You can’t fight a stone wall.”

"Fine-- You win this round Mister Oakenshield. Know that I won't let you do this again in the near future." The hobbit's lips curve into a frown, but nods his head. "And do not tempt me. All stone walls do have a weak point in their build."

"What’re you doing here?" He almost whined, glancing over at him. thieving-hobbit