#Thorin is so done

[atrustfulplace]

imagine: you are chilling in front you your house getting high. along comes an old family friend who you last saw when you were six, you are now in your 50s. after a brief convo where he is kind of a dick to you, he’s like damn you’ve changed :/. and your like yeah bestie it’s been five decades why the fuck are you here. he leaves. later that night a shit ton of people show up and trash your house. just throw and absolute rager. halfway through the family friend from earlier shows up. he announces in full earshot of everyone that he wants you to come with him to rob a bank. you of course say wtf??? one of the people who broke into your house calls you a pussy. another person shoves you a contract which declares if you get shot robbing the bank they will not pay for your funeral. you pass out. when you wake up you find the contract on your table and your house almost completely back to normal. you stare at the contract for a moment and decide, fuck it this is just as a good a midlife crisis than anything.

this is what happened to bilbo baggins

[heart-select]

The King, The Paramour

Mafia AU but the idea is people underestimate bilbo but it's the queen that moves most in a game of chess. Mildly inspired by "Marked Man" by TenTomatoes

[flamingostalker]

I'm Your Man

[bitterseaproduction]

Thorin Oakenshield 💎 The Hobbit

[ tolkien character gif set ]

[larkbunny]

Thorin Oakenshield

Portrait Study

[desperatefan54288]

okay ladies and germs, im gonna go to bed. Try not to work your pain into angsty ass fics while im gone. Im still trying to fight sansukh.

w love ur fav bed rotter.

[kierancaz]

Soo I saw that you were looking for some writing inspiration/requests and I was wondering if you would be interested in writing a Thorin x Reader fic where Reader is part of the company and both of them really admire each other but are too afraid to admit it at first and before they confess their feelings there's some sort of miscommunication?

This just came to my mind and I hope it could inspire you a little :)

hey !! thanks so much for requesting something !! I tired my best but I have not written for Thorin before so sorry if he's a little ooc haha. Also sorry this took so damn long I kept starting and stopping and also screwed up my sleep schedule and then 3 days in a row kept getting stomach aches and just couldn’t write more than three lines T_T. If it feels inconsistent or confusing I’m sorry I got lost in the sauce and COULDN’T FIGURE OUT WHAT I WAS DOING but I hope you enjoy anyway :)

warnings : none details : reader is human, marriage plot that isn’t super important besides like ^^ the request

pre-post edit: I just went back and read the request again and this might not actually be what you asked for so uh, I’m sorry, but I’m gonna post this anyway bc well it’s written but if you don’t like it lmk and I will try again :)

𝐀𝐝𝐨𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐌𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

It was safe to stay that Thorin was not the happiest camper when you joined the company, but he couldn't deny that you intrigued him a bit. Only a little though, you must understand.

You had joined the company a fair bit later, when they were stopped by the tolls. You had arrived just before Gandalf and saw the group tied up. You were going to ignore them and just carry on your way, after all it wasn't any of your business. But watching the little hobbit try and stall for time while none of the dwarves caught on was amusing enough for you to lend your aid. You had a talent for sneaking around, you made no noise when you walked, had no scent you left behind, and with little effort could blend into any environment.

You crept up onto the rock behind where the group of dwarves was tied and dug around in your bag until you pulled out a mirror. The sun was coming up and just peaking over the rock that the trolls had been staying behind. Laying down flat you brought the mirror in front of yourself and moved it until it caught the sunlight and began to reflect it. You bounce it around for a moment, attempting to get a good angle. Finally, you hit the troll standing farthest away right in the face, there was a small noise it made but it was cut off by it's mouth turning to stone. Quickly its head and shoulders and chest also turned to stone.

"Huh, you say something?" The one troll that had been talking to the hobbit said as he turned around along with the other one that was standing over by the fire. They both gasped and the one that had been talking to the hobbit rounded on the little guy again, "what did you little ferret do?!"

"Ferret?" The hobbit stuttered for a moment, doing his best to hop away but fell on his butt. "N-Nothing, I- we didn't do anything."

"Why you little-" The troll made to grab the hobbit but you quickly adjusted your mirror and light been to hit the troll on the side of the head. It started to turn to stone and in an attempt to stop it the troll reached up to block the light but only managed to turn his hand to stone. The other troll shrieked in terror.

"The dawn will take you all!" Cried someone from atop the bolder with a booming voice. A second later he slammed his staff down and the bolder cracked in two, letting the sunlight pour through. All the trolls turned quickly to stone and the dwarves set quickly to setting themselves free. You slid back down the bolder and pocketed your mirror. For some reason, you didn't immediately leave.

"I think we owe someone our thanks." Said a older white haired dwarf as he walked up to you. Gandalf followed him.

"Y/n, fancy running into you here, though I can't say I'm upset." The old wizard smiled at you. You smiled back at him.

"Good to see you too, Gandalf." You turned and offered a bow to the old dwarf and "the name's Y/n, at your service."

The old dwarf smiled, he seemed very pleased with your politeness, and bowed back, "Balin, at yours."

"Is this the company you mentioned Gandalf?" You asked turning back to your old friend.

"What do you know of this company?" Came a rumbling deep voice from your left. You hadn't realized that someone else had joined you. His arms were crossed and judging by the slight crease in his brows he was not very happy.

"Ah- well," you cleared your throat and looked to Gandalf for help but he offered none. "You must be Thorin," you bowed the same as you did for Balin. "I know of your journey, Gandalf told me." Yes, blame the old wizard, that's fine.

Thorin turned to Gandalf with a glare, silently demanding an explanation from him. Gandalf cleared his throat and shifted his weight on his feet slightly, "I first asked Y/n to be our burglar, however she refused me."

"I had family business to attend to at the time." You said and Thorin turned his glare onto you, you stiffened slightly and suddenly wished you didn't say anything at all.

"What are you doing here now?" Thorin asked.

"Well... I was looking for you guys. I figured if I followed your road I'd come across you eventually."

"Why?" Thorin was not looking very pleased. You felt small under his stare and began to fiddle with your hands.

"I was hoping that, well, you may have room for another walker in your company?" Your expression changed into something unsure as you shrugged your shoulders. All Thorin did was stare and you glanced at Gandalf for help.

"She can be of use Thorin, she's very quiet this one, great for sneaking around." Gandalf nodded his staff towards you.

"She also did just save our skins." Added Balin and you were very grateful he had not walked off.

Thorin thought for a moment, but it felt like en eternity. He eyed you up and down before turning away and beginning to walk off. "Fine. But don't slow us down. If you do you'll get left behind."

You've been traveling with the company since then. So far you've made very good friends with everyone but particularly Fili, Kili, Balin and Bilbo. Over time you've also begun to greatly admire the leader of this company, Thorin.

You couldn't deny that you thought he was attractive, you had thought that from the moment you met him. But it was more than just looks you liked about him, you admired how much he cared for his people, his sense of duty to bring them back to their home in Erebor. He carries such a huge burden all on his own and is able to do it with grace and dignity, you understood a little of what that meant, though on a much smaller scale. He was brave and even though he was a king he was always first to throw himself into a fight to protect those around him. And even though he seemed cold on the surface it's very obvious that he cares for all his companions and would do whatever it took to make sure they were safe.

"Watcha lookin' at?" You jumped, Kili had his face right next to yours leaning over your shoulder. He laughed and sat on the rock next to you with his back facing the fire, you smack his arm.

"How long were you there?" You grumbled.

"Oh I don't know, long enough to notice you staring dreamily off at my uncle." He clasped his hands together out in front of him and bat his eyelashes at you in a teasing manner before bursting out laughing like someone told the most hysterical joke known to man.

"I was not! I was just thinking and I zoned out..."

"Sure, sure, whatever you say." Kili said once he stopped laughing. "You know you're so obvious right? Everyone sees it."

"Sees what?" You asked with a raised eyebrow and Kili rolled his eyes.

"That you're in love with him!" Kili hit you on the shoulder. "I think it's a good thing personally, Thorin needs someone like you. Someone fun who can lighten his mood, he's always so stoic these days, believe it or not he used to be fun."

"I'm not in love with him." You said and put your chin in your hands, your mood had soured and Kili didn't understand why. "I'm due to be married."

Oh. Oh. Thorin stopped listening.

He had realized you're staring a while ago. He thought, or maybe hoped, that you where staring at him, but it seems you really where just zoned out and didn't realize you where looking in his direction. He started paying attention more when Kili wandered over and tuned in when the two of you started talking. But now he didn't want to listen, you were probably going to go on talking about whoever it is that you're going to be married to and he didn't want to hear it.

"You ok there laddie?" Balin asked appear at his side.

"Yes, why wouldn't I be?" And it came out a little more snappy than he would've liked.

"No particular reason, just looked like you were staring off into space. But by your tone it sounds like something is on your mind?" Thorin thought for a moment before deciding he shook his head.

"I'm going for a walk." Was what he settled on and he got up and left.

"You what?!" Kili said in shock. "What do you mean?"

"I mean exactly what I said. Once I go back home I am to be wed."

"You don't sound very happy about it..."

"I'm not." You said. "I don't want to marry him."

"Then why are you?" Kili sounded almost mad. You furrowed your eyebrows at him.

"Because I have to Kili. I'm the oldest in my family and with our dad dead I have to be the one to bring in money somehow. There aren't many jobs for women where I am and this guy has enough money to keep my family off the streets and well fed. The reason I decided to seek out this company and join the adventure is because this is the last one I'll be able to go on..." Kili was silent.

Suddenly he shot up on his feet and rounded the rock to stand in front of you. "Thorin is a king. We are going to reclaim our home that is filled with mountains of gold. Tell Thorin you love him and then you can be happy and save your family! It's as simple as that!"

"Thorin is a king. It's not as simple as that."

Kili was making that face he does when he's confused and upset. Eyebrows creased together, pouting, and over all looking like a sad puppy dog. "Get up," he said and tugged roughly on your arm to pull you to your feet.

"What are you doing?!" You half shouted at him as you tried to pry yourself free. "Let me go you lunatic!"

"I'm looking for my uncle." He said and you froze for a second before beginning to fight him again. "He deserves to be happy and so do you, all it takes is for you to admit your feelings to him."

"How do you know that's all it takes?" You snapped and stopped struggling for a moment. "How do you know he thinks of me in the same way I think of him?"

You were every serious, Kili however was not and was looking at you like you had just said the stupidest thing he had ever heard. He sighed exasperatedly, your face crumpled in confusion. "Where is he? Do you see, Thorin?"

You took a look around the fire, "um, no, I don't."

Thorin was walking through the woods, he could still see the campfire and hear the voices of everyone so he wasn't far if anything went wrong, but he was far enough that he couldn't properly see any of the individual figures. You had a fiancé? You were going to be married. Thorin didn't know how to describe how he was feeling in this moment. Upset? Mad? Disappointed? Perhaps blindsided was the word, but how could just being blindsided by this information be enough to make him feel this bad. Why did he even care so much?

Well actually he knew why he cared so much. It probably had something to do with that intense warmth that spread throughout him whenever he looked at you. That tightening in his chest whenever you smiled, even if it wasn't at him.

He had noticed a while back the way he was beginning to think of you, but he shoved it down. Hid it away in fear that it would start to interfere with this quest. He needed to make a conscious effort to treat you the same as everyone else. But he still always caught himself wondering if you were tired and needed to rest, if you were warm at night, if you had enough to eat or drink. After a battle or after running away from orcs he always made it a point to check on you personally and he couldn't relax until he did so.

When you first met he thought you were attractive. Just a passing acknowledgement that, for a human, you were nice to look at. But over time, after seeing the way you would blend with the others in conversation, how even though you were the best fighter you still valued the others safety and were willing to put yourself at risk, how much Fili and Kili liked you. You were so kind and unassuming and you always offered to help.

One thing that stood out to Thorin, and that he especially admired about you, was that you stood up to him. It might sound weird, but he liked that you questioned him, and when you thought he was wrong you pointed it out. It didn't happen often, but when you did say he was wrong about something you were usually right. You argued with him when no one else did and somehow he thought that was very attractive of you.

He let out a long sigh and rubbed his temples, all of this thinking was useless. And also making him feel worse, like the hole in his chest was growing. The laughing from around the fire tuned him fully back into his surroundings and with one last look around (so he could at least say he was checking the parameter) he started to head back to camp. As he exited the trees and came back into the little clearing he heard the sound of his nephew.

"Aha! There he is!" Looking to his left Thorin saw Kili and he was pulling you with him. Well, not so much pulling as he was dragging, you were tripping over your own feet with every step and looked about ready to fall.

Kili then yanked you forward, practically throwing you into Thorin with a grin on his face that Thorin just knew meant that Kili knew something he didn't. Thorin reached out and caught you before you could face plant. "Kili, what's going on?" You scoffed as you stood up straighter and brushed yourself off, you had a very sour look on your face that just made Thorin more confused and slightly concerned.

"Y/n has something to talk to you about." He said and winked before running off to go whisper about something with his brother. There was a long stretch of silence and it was very quickly becoming awkward.

Thorin cleared his throat, "there's something you wanted to talk to me about?"

You jumped slightly, Thorin was standing there, hands clasped behind his back and face as un-telling as ever. You chuckled, "oh, uh, it's nothing really. Not that important or anything, you know Kili this is just one of his- uh- things..."

Thorin just grunted in response and turned away. You probably could've used this opportunity to run away but for some reason you didn't. There was another long silence, the two of you just standing next to each other and looking at the rest of the company sitting around the fire. At some point you saw Gandalf look over at you two and when he looked away you could've sworn there was a knowing smile on his face.

"I hear you're getting married once you return home after the journey." Thorin said suddenly.

"What?" You said whirling to face him, "how do you know about that?"

"I over heard you and Kili talking about it." He answered simply and without looking at you. You creased your brows before turning back to look at the company and the fire. Thorin glanced at you, "whoever he is, he's a lucky man."

"And I an unlucky woman." You said with a huff. "I don't want to marry him."

"Oh? Why not?" Thorin asked and turned to you.

"Why? Well for one he is the most arrogant self righteous man I have ever met. He thinks he's the gods gift to man and that everyone he interacts with owes him something. The only reason I even agreed to this arrangement with him is because if I don't my family will lose everything. I much rather marry-- someone else."

After your rant Thorin was feeling significantly lighter. He caught your stutter at the end and the side of his mouth corked up. "Y/n, what was it Kili wanted you to tell me?"

You turned to look at him, eyes wide, but were comforted by the smile on his face. "Well," you said looking up and away to avoid eye contact and clasping your hands in front of you. "Kili wants me to tell you that I'm in love with you. And I am, in love with you I mean."

Thorin chuckled and you peaked back at him, he had a soft smile on his face. "Maybe you're not as unlucky as you thought armâlimê.”

You opened your mouth like you were going to say something, but then what he said seemed to register. You paused and then looked over at him, “what did you just call me?”

He smiled at you softly and took your hand and looked down at it as he spoke, “we can figure out what to do about your family’s situation after the quest, I trust it won’t be to hard to find a solution then.”

Silently your hand tightened around his, touched by what he had said. “And just for the record,” he added looking up into your eyes, “I love you too.”

From a little ways away, over by the fire, you could hear whispered cheers and groans, and the clink of coins being exchanged. You looked over and Kili grinned back, shooting you a thumbs up and you couldn’t help but laugh feelings as light as air and happier than you ever have before.

[bluecaeriart]

Moments Between - THAUC 2022

My piece for the An Unexpected Collab project!!!  My partner @nottoolateforthegame and I got the prompt “more time during the quest for company bonding” and we turned it into a story about Bilbo and Thorin’s growing relationship as seen through the eyes of the company, my partner writing the absolutely amazing fic!!

It was such an Honor getting to work with the sweetest and most wonderful partner and getting to work on this project in general, its the biggest thing I’ve ever done and I genuinely could not be more proud of myself and my partner!!!! ꉂ (′̤ॢ∀ ू‵̤๑))ˉ̞̭♡ HAPPY 10TH ANNIVERSARY TO AN UNEXPECTED JOURNEY!!

[morningnoodles]

bilbo: hey, has thorin been acting different?

frodo: honestly, i haven't seen him. what did he say, when you asked him what's wrong?

bilbo: uh...

frodo: you didn't ask him? sheesh. it is a wonder you're not a landscaper, the way you beat around the bush.

[bagginshield-anthology]

Thorin, in the throes of dragonsickness: "why am I always gaslit and never girl bossed?"

Bilbo: *eyerolls in boyfriend with lost patience*

I said this to my friend and thought it was a perfect Bagginshield dynamic

[green-fifteen]

Day 3: bandits, revenge, and mulberry jam

Prompt: Entertain Fandom: The Hobbit Pairing: Bilbo Baggins/Thorin Oakenshield Word count: 3,979 Summary: On the long road to Erebor, Bilbo and Thorin must keep their nephew entertained. (Reshirement AU) read on AO3 instead

for @fluffyfebruary

"Did I ever tell you my favorite story about your uncle?" Bilbo asked mildly as they bumped along the road to Erebor. They were on the open road again, finally clear of the murk and damp of Thranduil's woods. They weren't far from the mountain, now--they could turn their faces to see it whenever they wished--but the trip through the wood had not been kind to young Frodo, and it had lasted too long.

As if by some awful magic, Thorin grew ill just after they reached the Eastern boundary of the forest. No sooner had they stepped upon the Old Forest Road than he'd begun to sway on his feet as he walked and his slumber had been more and more difficult to chase from him in the mornings. Unlike the last time Bilbo was taken to the mountain, this time they traveled by cart--it was an easy matter to leave him on it to recover and let the ponies bear him hence. Still, this delayed their party by a number of days, for there was room enough atop the cart for Thorin to lie out, his head cushioned upon a sack of flour, only if Bilbo and Frodo walked along beside the wheels. At this slower pace, the three of them spent longer in the darkness than Bilbo would have preferred.

And now it was clear that Frodo had not been unaffected by their time in the Mirkwood. Even as Thorin recovered his health, sitting up and taking tea and cram at mealtimes, the little hobbit yet looked as pale and drawn as ever. Bilbo thought he might be coming out of his funk, but it was not happening very quickly. He had noticed the boy looking around himself with his usual awe the day before, as they cleared the cover of trees and darkness and saw the pink light of a sunrise before them. It had been beautiful, after so long in the woods--Bilbo was not ashamed to be brought to tears. His husband had handed him a handkerchief. Frodo also smiled just that morning, when Thorin nearly toppled from his seat in the cart after the ponies led them over a low boulder. He'd made such an outraged expression that the Bagginses in front of him could not be blamed for laughing.

Excepting these brief moments, Frodo had traveled the road from the Mirkwood to Dale in silent contemplation, something his guardians were unaccustomed to. Their charge was still young and viewed each new day with curious eyes. Meaning, they routinely answered excited questions about all manner of things, which numbered so greatly once they'd left the Shire that Bilbo and Thorin had begun a habit of turn-taking, signalling with a glance when one or the other of them should like to give up the responsibility. They'd been exchanging looks of a different sort since the forest, heavy with worry and care for their young nephew. It was Bilbo who broke the silence first, determined to lift Frodo at least a moment from his far-away mood.

"It's a good one, I promise," he continued. Thorin raised an eyebrow at him, but Bilbo did not mind him, his eyes fixed on the smaller hobbit.

"It was quite the adventure-- bandits, revenge, mulberry jam. And your own dear mother was there." Frodo tilted his head to the side. Choosing to take this as encouragement, Bilbo went on.

"It was before you were born, mind. Before the lass had even thought of marrying, I'd wager. Yes, this was a fair few years ago, when your uncle had first come to me, complaining about his sad old hill."

"The Lonely Mountain," Thorin grumbled. Frodo's mouth twitched up as it always did when they had this argument. It was an old one.

"Well, what's the difference? Lonely or sad, hill or mountain?" Bilbo affected a pompous academic air. "I think you'll find that a mountain is nothing more than a very large hill. Hobbits know about hills, you are aware."

Thorin leaned in. "And dwarves know their mountains, Master Hobbit."

The old hobbit tutted and wagged a finger. "Be that as it may, Master Oakenshield, there is a tale to be told. I'll not let you distract young Frodo."

At this, he leveled the young hobbit with a serious look. "However much I wish to tell this story, I must warn you: your uncle may come off a fool in the recounting. Do you still wish to hear it, knowing it may forever change your view of the dwarf who raised you?"

Frodo seemed to perk, humor finding him at last after days of malaise. Thorin huffed a laugh which he disguised with an annoyed look. The boy's response was all too predictable. "Well, I wouldn't want to embarrass him. But I respect your wish to tell me, and can have no objections." He was fighting a smile, matching his hobbit uncle's expression feature to feature.

"At least allow me the dignity to interject here and there, Bilbo. Your love of drama can at times surpass your regard for the truth, especially when you are telling this story," Thorin insisted. Bilbo nodded graciously, and then began.

"After the business with the dragon, your uncle wanted to return to the Shire and live with me. He had to stay in his kingdom for a while yet, as he was the king. But you know this already. What is really interesting is what happened the first time he came back to the Shire after he'd been settled with me for some time.

He was visiting friends and family in Erebor and he'd been gone nearly a year. I missed him terribly. Counting the days, nearly ready to hop onto a pony and fetch him back. This was Halimath, so I was growing worried that I would not see him again until the spring. The chill of those solitary mornings, looking out to my frosted tomato plants, was colder even than the bite of the icy wind."

"I was gone all of summer and into mid-autumn. I was home before the plows had even left the fields." Thorin's voice was dry as he interrupted.

"Yes, well, the sentiment remains. I was desperate to have you home again. Nothing was the same now that I'd known what it was to have you with me. The food I cooked never tasted as rich, the sun never came out as far. I think that was the grayest summer we've yet seen in Hobbiton."

"You never remember to open the curtains."

"Do you know what your dear uncle was doing, while I pined away to nothing for the want of him? In those last few days as I cried myself to sleep alone in our bed?"

Frodo's eyes were wide by now, taken in by his uncles lovelorn expression. "What was he doing?"

"He was losing a fight to Esmeralda Took in Buckland, that's what." Despite his tone, Bilbo was unable to resist smiling at his husband.

"Merry's mum?!" Frodo cried, nearly unseating himself as he fell backward. "Why were you fighting with Merry's mum?" He was looking at Thorin too now, mouth wide and eyes bright.

The dwarf shook his head. "She was nobody's mum, then, pebble. She was younger than you are now and likely to bite somebody's ear off if she wasn't minded close enough. A wild thing."

"Yes and, as it happens, Primula Brandybuck was charged with the minding."

"My mum!"

"Yes, the very same. But, you see, she had the misfortune of minding the entire lot of visiting Took children. Can you imagine it? The yelling and hair-tugging that went on? How was she supposed to keep track of each child that day? There were at least forty of them!"

Frodo made a face. "Uncle Bilbo, that can't be right. I don't even have forty cousins."

"I'm sure you do, don't forget you are a Took, a Baggins, and a Brandybuck. Anyway, it's about the sentiment, my dear boy. Do not let the facts distract you." Thorin looked at him askance.

"As one might predict, Esmeralda and a band of her roughest cousins slipped free of their handler. They roved north along the road to look for mischief and spied a traveler not very far from Brandybuck Hall. He was riding a pony and wore shoes on his feet, like a man. Something about this man told the children they had met their mischief at last. Everyone save Esmeralda hid in the Hedge, while she stopped him to tell him her sad story. What was it again, dear?"

"I'm dreadfully lost, won't you please help me get home?" Frodo smiled to hear him recite her words in his gruff and unimpressed manner.

"But, Uncle Thorin," he said after a moment. "What were you doing on the road to Buckland? You should have been on the main road toward Hobbiton."

"Oh, remarkably well timed, my boy. Go ahead and ask him what he replied."

"What did you say?"

Thorin gave his husband a withering glance. "I said, 'What a pair we make. I too am lost along this path.' I was trying to calm the poor girl. You did not hear the way she was wailing."

"Telling her you do not know the way may not have been the most reassuring course of action, had she really been so upset" Bilbo countered with a laugh.

"But what happened next, Uncle?" Frodo urged.

"Yes. Well, the young hobbit girl used her pathetic story to compel him out of the saddle, which allowed the other children their opportunity to strike."

"They struck him?"

"No, no. They robbed him! Untied his saddlebag like they'd done it a hundred times and went running on down the path toward Brandy Hall. Esmeralda showed him her tongue, and then flew away, too."

"Robbed him?! The bandits!" Frodo fell forward laughing. "Uncle Bilbo, I did not think you meant hobbit children! Did you retrieve your bag, Uncle Thorin? Bilbo mentioned revenge, too."

Thorin's face was soft and fond. "I gave chase to the beasts until I realized at last there was no hope. Although they were small, their legs moved faster than I could believe. Worse, they threw the bag to and fro among themselves, that I never knew which child possessed it."

"A classic game of keep-away," Bilbo agreed. "It was a hilarious success for the Took children in Buckland that day, who returned to Brandy Hall to stash their treasure. Thorin arrived not long after they'd disappeared back into the hall."

"Like rabbits in a warren," his husband grumbled.

"Yes, dear. They had utterly vanished by the time he came upon the hill. Your uncle had no choice but to knock on the front door, dripping in sweat, wearing his dirty traveling clothes and a great big scary sword. You can imagine how much he frightened them, but the Brandybucks were never the type to be terrified, especially in their own home. After they invited him inside, my cousin Gorbadoc eventually recognized him as my husband and took him by the arm to the dining room. To make him feel welcome (and Brandybucks are very much a welcoming group!) he sent in Primula with one of the children."

"Not Esmeralda!"

"Yes, your cousin Esmeralda came through the door and when she saw your uncle, her eyes went round."

"As the saucers on the table." Thorin chuckled.

"What did you do?" Frodo asked.

Bilbo answered. "He did nothing out of the ordinary. Nothing as course and affronting as accusing a Took girl of tomfoolery." The hobbits shared a moment of humor. "No, instead he allowed Esmeralda and Primula to bring him courses of fine food. They brought him sweet cakes and rich loaves of buttered bread. He ate fish and game and piles of seasoned potatoes. At the end, when they asked if he'd like a dessert, he looked at Esmeralda Took, who was almost certainly trying very hard to avoid drawing notice from the dwarf, and told her he'd like something special--the best thing they had in the house. Primula at once urged the girl to the pantry.

She returned with the finest Buckland jam you've ever eaten. Sweet and dark and without a single seed. It tastes like climbing a mulberry tree in Wedmath. Served warm on a crumpet with butter, it is more than a taste--it is a sensation."

Thorin sniffed. "I liked it fine."

"And although he liked it, your uncle ate only one bite of his crumpet, before setting it down again. 'This isn't what I'm looking for,' he told the girl. She and Primula hurried back to the pantry to find something else. They came back to the dining room with a nut pie."

Frodo groaned. "Oh, Uncle. I'm too hungry for talk of the food in Buckland." And Bilbo could see that he meant it. An uncomfortable-looking line was forming between his eyebrows.

"Never mind the pie. Never mind the next three dishes they brought out to please him. Know only that they tried five times to find what the dwarf was craving and five times he was not satisfied. When he refused the fifth plate, Primula finally spoke her mind. You can imagine how she esteemed your uncle by then."

"What names did she call you, Uncle Thorin?" Frodo asked between happy giggles.

"The kind that are best not repeated," he replied gravely.

"When he responded, he looked not at Primula, but at her young charge. He said, 'You know well that what I am looking for cannot be found in the larder or the pantry, although I am sure they are very well stocked with the finest ingredients. (By this time, he was aware enough of hobbit customs to know what an insult he gave and he did very well to try and soften it.) He pressed on.

'I believe you know what I'd like to find, little hobbit. Do you disagree?' he said to her. Now the searching eye of Primula Brandybuck was on Esmeralda Took, which is a frightful feeling for a person of any age or race." Frodo nodded in agreement. He could remember well enough. "It is no wonder the bandit Esmeralda gave up the act, then and there. She did try to run, but your mother had captured her arm before she even took a step. After some questioning-"

"And yet more of her false tears," Thorin added.

"-Esmeralda led Primula to the treasure. Your uncle did not follow. Why did you stay in the dining room, my love?"

"So that she might walk there and back to me. I will not waste energy in rushing to reclaim that which has been stolen, if I may instead let the thief bear its weight back to me." Frodo looked appropriately awed by this pronouncement, but Bilbo only cleared his throat.

"And the real reason, dear?"

After a moment, Thorin admitted, "There may have been a.. strategic aspect to my reasoning. For Brandy Hall is very large and I knew already that Esmeralda Took could run much faster than I. If she had outmaneuvered me again, in that tangled den of tunnels--"

"You did not want to get lost," Bilbo said, in summary. His nephew was grinning with delight, as he always was when they teased his dwarven uncle in this fashion.

"It is a fair concern," he insisted. "After all, Uncle Thorin can get lost on a straight road like the one from Bree to Hobbiton. What should happen to him in a place like Brandy Hall?"

"Precisely!" Thorin said, and then narrowed his eyes at Frodo. "That is to say--I should be at a disadvantage, in one of your great hobbit halls. Your people seem to have an affinity for dirt and digging holes, like moles. Or badgers."

Bilbo sniffed and turned his body away from Thorin. "Because Esmeralda Took had been to Brandy Hall many times since she was born, and not at all because she had the characteristics of any rodent, as some might claim, she was back again in very little time, your uncle's saddlebag in her hands.

Primula of course had shaken the entire story from her on the way and her shouting had even compelled a few of her relatives to tag along behind them. So it was that Thorin had his revenge on young Esmeralda--forced to trudge through the corridors, the criminal bearing evidence of her crime before her cousins, brought to trial in the only way a child can be."

He turned back to his husband and gazed at him admiringly. "He did not know it, of course, but it was just the kind of scheme that any Took or Brandybuck worth the name might enjoy. So after they fed him spirits and kept him laughing long into the night, they convinced him to stay another day. They had not heard enough about the brigands he'd faced on the road, they claimed. He must stay at least until lunchtime. What was the hurry? Indeed, he had nowhere urgent to be. His husband could wait another day. He had waited so long already and he did not have to know about the delay."

Thorin broke in. "They convinced me of nothing. Your strong hobbit ale convinced me to stay when I woke in my own grave the next morning."

"Your weakness in this regard is a fault I am still working to accept," Bilbo said, sighing. To this, his husband wrapped an arm around his waist and drew him in to whisper something in his pointed ear. Frodo could not hear what was said, so he did not know why his uncle blushed so deeply.* After coughing once or twice to clear his throat, the hobbit simply straightened and continued his story.

"And so your uncle dithered there in Buckland, while I thought of nothing else but seeing him come down the lane to Bag End. When he eventually showed his face, of course I asked him about the delay, for in his last letter to me, he said he would arrive before Trewsday and that day was Mersday.

'There was no delay,' he told me. 'I must have been mistaken when I counted the days before.' And then something about how the hobbit way of keeping the days is too confusing, I'm sure. In any case, I believed him. I had my suspicions, of course, but they weren't important. My husband had returned to me. The sun was shining on the hills. The fish I stewed that evening was the best I had ever eaten."

"So how did you find out about Emseralda?" Frodo asked.

"It came in a letter, from reliable old Gorbadoc. See, while your uncle was out of the smial a few days later, the post came for him--a message from Buckland. I was curious. And, you know, I'm a Took too, on my mother's side. It is in my nature to open intriguing envelopes, and who can fight their very nature? That evening, Thorin arrived at Bag End to find me reading over the letter for what may have been the hundredth time."

"I was only gone an hour."

"It was a short note. It was a simple benediction from my cousin and a brief line from the bandit herself. Do you remember the wording?" Bilbo asked the dwarf.

"Not as well as you do, I'm sure,"

"Yes, I did read it rather a lot. I still keep it in the study. I can show it to you sometime when we're home again. Just remember to ask, because it is totally out of sight--hidden from your uncle just the way Esmeralda hid his saddle bag! I often forget it's there."

"But what did the letter say, Uncle Bilbo?"

"Oh yes. It said, 'Dearest Cousin Thorin, After the to-do here at Brandy Hall yesterday, I am writing to inquire after your health and safety. I will admit to some concern, now that you have left us, that you may not find the way to Bag End on your own. When you fell from your horse today, I was truly worried I may need to call upon my cousin to fetch you himself. Simply remember this and you shall be home by tomorrow evening and, what's more, with all of your belongings!: Stay your pony upon the wide road to Hobbiton. Follow signs to Hobbiton. Do not stymie your own progress along any more side roads. Be assured--you shall be safe from little bandits if you do. Your friend and cousin, Gorbadoc Brandybuck'"

"And what did Esmeralda write?"

"She wrote, in the clumsy hand of a child: 'Please forgive me, Master Dwarf. If I didn't do it you would still be lost in Buckland. --Esmeralda Took. p.s. Please don't tell Master Bilbo about it, he is my favorite cousin.'"

The hobbit grinned as he finished his tale, looking from his husband to his nephew. "And then the truth was out, Frodo. He told me the story as you've heard it today."

"Not exactly as you heard it today."

"Close enough, I'd say. And all that really matters is that our dear nephew found it inspiring."

"Oh? Is Frodo inspired by tales of my misfortune?" he asked drily.

"When they're funny," Frodo said, covering his mouth with his hand. "You have to admit, Uncle Thorin--it is fun to imagine you chasing after little hobbits. And my mum!" He giggled anew. "She must have been so cross with you!"

Thorin smiled and reached to pull the young hobbit into his side. "She was, pebble. Your ears would have bled."

"I think I would have liked to see it," he said. "Imagine if my mother were here. She could tell us what they thought in Buckland after you left, and everything that happened with the rowdy Took cousins." After saying this, the boy went quiet for a long time, his smile dimming to a thoughtful twist.

"I am sorry I've been… distracted since the Mirkwood," he said at last, his voice low. Thorin squeezed his nephew tight against him. "I was only thinking… I have lost my parents once already."

"Oh," said Bilbo, scooting around to sit on Frodo's other side. "Did it scare you, when Thorin fell ill? It was scary for me too."

He nodded and cast his eyes to the straw at the bottom of the cart. "I could not help but think of the worst while we traveled in the dark. It got better when we left the woods, but I can still feel the weight of those thoughts even now."

"It is always that way, when one enters the Mirkwood," Thorin assured him. "It steals all the light from your mind, leaving your thoughts in darkness. I do not wonder that you feel ill at ease." Bilbo hummed in agreement.

"And if it will help you dispel the gloom--you must know that our dangerous days are over, nephew. Your uncle and I have faced a dragon once already, we are due our share of peace and safety."

"What about bandits?" Frodo said, his lips drawn up to one side.

"Oh, don't waste your time worrying about bandits. Haven't I told you how your uncle deals with that kind? We are perfectly safe there." He smiled back at him. "No, my boy, I think that he and I will be with you for a long time. You shall see."

Frodo still looked far too contemplative when he answered, but his smile was genuine. "I think so too, Uncle Bilbo."

*[Thorin whispered to Bilbo: "Strange. You seemed to accept this fault of mine with pleasure on the evening of my name-day." Basically: "Is that so? It seemed like you accepted it when you got me drunk on my birthday and couldn't keep your hands to yourself." ]

[heart-select]

i started playing lego hobbit bc it was on sale recently and they really do incentivize u to just smash everything on sight

[bitterseaproduction]

Spring from the Thaw - Day One

“This feels like folly.”

“Don’t be so hasty,” cried the grey wizard riding at Thorin’s side, raising his voice to be heard over the wind. The admonishment was paired with a little glint of a smile paired that the exiled royal did not care for, for it seemed as if Gandalf considered his own words something of a joke. But that good humour faded as quickly as it appeared, and it was hard to chastise the wizard after the clouds fell back across his face. “You need the Shirefolk just as much as they need you,” he went on, his tone serious as death, horridly fitting as that was. “They are the only ones who showed themselves willing to give an ear to your hopes, never mind the only ones capable of fulfilling those hopes west of Imladris.”

“The only ones desperate enough to try, you mean,” Thorin grumbled back without expectation of being heard, prickling with the unsaid mention of elves, his predicament, and his fellow dwarves’ hesitance and lack of faith all at once. Never mind the troubles awaiting him at his lost home: Without outside recruits, he would not have enough people to fill the mountain properly once they got there! The handful of former Ered Luin residents willing to follow him could barely make up a village, much less support restoring a whole kingdom, and it would be some years of grueling work and extreme luck before he could possibly hope to attract reluctant Durin’s Folk back to the mountain. They were not motivated to come. Not after such devastation.

Not when the gold had been lost.

He knew the Hobbits were his only hope if he wished to see his people rise from the ashes, but when he looked about at the land around them, that truth just made their mission feel more onerous. More doomed. The fields he, the wizard, and his trailing company passed through showed nothing of promise. Or much of anything at all, all white and grey with snow and clouds despite the late April day they found themselves in. But that was expected, and the entire reason Thorin was there: The Curse of the Shire. No one knew quite what had caused it, though Thorin suspected Gandalf did, as efforts by his company to question the wise man and try theories by him were met by sharp rebukes, a stormy dimming of the air about him, and heavy, shame-filled eyes that he tried hard not to let anyone see. But Thorin did see. He saw enough to guess that Gandalf felt some responsibility for the ruin about them. Whether that was due to guilt, as Gandalf was supposedly particularly fond of Hobbits and felt responsible for the people, or something far deeper, Thorin could not say.

It did not truly matter: What Thorin did know was that the Fell Winter of years ago had crippled all the freefolk of Eriador with loss and grief, but it had never left the Shire. Nearly thirty years on, the snow continued to fall in the Farthings, or so they said. Few never dared to venture deep into the lands to see the full truth of it, and even there, on the outskirts of the cursed lands, the dwarf shivered with remembered chills of that long ago winter, brought back to vivid life by the scene about them. He could hear his company muttering amongst themselves behind them, and hoped that fear and superstition would not cost him what hope they had before they even reached the meeting point.

Even now, his people still refused to enter the heart of the cursed land, and Thorin would not risk it himself without even a promise, so it had been agreed they would meet at Michel Delving: Once a town of some size that Thorin’s people had happily traded with not so long ago, as it stood in easy access to their home in the Blue Mountains. Now, it was little more than a ruin buried in the snow. There was no bustle nor sound as the white-covered rooftops came into view amid the storm. Their only accompaniment remained the wind, crashing down on him in an obvious rebuke of their foolish intent. Thorin was almost suspecting the old wizard had simply gone mad, or led them into a trap of some sort, for there was no chance an entire population would linger for years in such a place if the weather was truly eternal. Did the Hobbits of the Shire even live? How could anyone survive under such conditions, and if they were truly foolish enough to remain-

Gandalf let out a relieved cry and called out, “Inside, my good dwarves! Whoever feels hardy and reckless enough for it, move the ponies to that building there, but the rest of you, inside at once! And that includes you, Thorin!”

Torn between a scoff at the wizard’s manner and outrage at being ordered about, Thorin bit back both responses in favour of rushing to dismount and toss out his own orders, waiting to be certain his old friend and cousin Balin was at his side and his nephews in sight before squinting through the snows to find the wizard. He was nearly impossible to spot with his unfortunate greys, but Thorin’s efforts were soon unnecessary as a few loud thumps marked Gandalf’s location, and a door swiftly opened, letting out a warm glow of light amid the white. Thorin did not wait to assess, following Gandalf’s lead by turning to his company and ordering them inside, making certain everyone not tending to the ponies’ survival had made it in before passing under Gandalf’s arm for himself.

The room inside was relief. He heard multiple members of his party give a loud gasp or sigh of joy while he himself felt the tension bleed out of him in the wake of such warmth. It was no forge, certainly, but the heat was a wonder for the contrast and where it was, and as he looked about, Thorin realized why, and quickly tensed again. The long hall of a room was peppered with various blazing fireplaces, and those were pleasant enough, but the other source of warmth in the room was people. Dozens upon dozens of Hobbits, all clustered together in little huddles along the sides of the room, gathered in families or what-not around each fire. And they were all looking at them, peering with frowns and glares and in some cases round, hopeful eyes, but always staring. All expectant in one way or another.

Thorin did not like it, and he tossed a glare up at the wizard currently removing his hat to knock off melting snow.

“No need for that, my friend,” he murmured without looking at Thorin, which raised his hackles even more: Why would the wizard feel the need to be subtle? “Just leave them be and they’ll let us go about our business. Come along.” And with that, he donned his hat again, gripped his staff, and led the way down the hall.

Thorin had little choice but to follow and lead his own people where the wizard went.

When they had crossed almost the entire length of the hall – eyes following them the entire way, of course – Gandalf suddenly stopped, turning to one fireplace in particular with a look so soft and heavy that the tension was wiped from Thorin’s mind, replaced by shock and curiosity as he followed the wizard’s gaze. The spot was no different from the others, save for the occupants. There was a small cluster of Hobbit children there, all with wide, round eyes full of wonder and question, and it was impossible not to pity them on sight, given the circumstances. But it was hard to focus on that, for the tiny creatures’ wonder was not for them, but for the sole adult among them: A Hobbit with a mess of golden-brown curls, more-or-less identical to a hundred others Thorin had seen before. Except this one was quite fussily dressed, with a fine jacket and flowery waistcoat, and his face was quite animated, his round nose scrunching up amid a myriad of expressions as he waved his arms about and spoke rapidly to the children gathered around his overstuffed armchair.

“And then, just when I thought I was going to end up in the belly of a wolf, soothing his hunger when all I had wanted was to claim a few winterberries for dinner, dear Forty burst out of the bushes, and-”

And then he stopped, though no one interrupted him. Not the children, not the wizard, not even Thorin and his company. They had all been listening quite raptly, and Thorin had not been aware of his own interest until the tale suddenly stopped as the man’s eyes – some dark colour impossible to name by nothing but firelight – caught on them by chance. Caught on Thorin by chance, for it was he the Hobbit gazed at, and Thorin still could not place the colour of those eyes. But he found himself drawn into trying, meeting that gaze without falter until the Hobbit broke it himself to look elsewhere. His entire face softened at the sight just beside Thorin.

“Gandalf.”

Thorin looked up to see Gandalf smiling at the Hobbit in question with a fondness he had never seen before. He clearly knew this particular Hobbit, and Thorin suspected his identity well before the wizard turned his way with a warm, “Thorin Oakenshield, may I introduce Bilbo Baggins, Thain of the Shire?”

At this mutual confirmation, the Hobbit stood, waving back a child or two who sat in his way. There was no shock of revelation in his face either, and when the Hobbit was standing just before Thorin, he bowed his head in a faint, but fine show of respect, lowering his gaze for only that beat before meeting his eye again. “Just Bilbo will do,” Bilbo said, speaking with a heavy, strained smile and a knowing eye that Thorin again found he could not break. “Welcome, Your Majesty, to the Shire.”

──── ──── ──── ──── ────

Bagginshield Week 2024

Day One - June 24 Prompts: Role Reversal/The Shire Falls Instead + Bilbo is the Thain/Is a Royal

. . . [to be continued] . . .

[arookbyanyothername]

Wild Flowers and Lonely Mountains

Chapter 2: Over the Hill We Go

Bilbo finally makes that famous decision, except that Thorin is kind of a dick. But he doesn't mean any real harm...does he?

[dangerliesbeforeyou]

ok so i'm watching the final film in the hobbit trilogy for the first time and oooh boy... i'm only 40 mins in and it's already a Trip lol

[bugbugboy]

Thorin... in addidas hoodie?

Thorin... WITH A PONYTAIL???