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sociedaddistopica · 6 days

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All apologies (última parte)

La aciaga noche de primavera, Ricardo y Martín se reúnen en el centro. Llevan casacas gruesas, camisas estampadas y jeans entallados. Compran cigarrillos y Red Bulls en la bodega El Tigre y cruzan por la Plaza de la Constitución viendo como la muchedumbre se aglomera en las esquinas. La plaza, a esa hora del sábado, es punto de encuentro de muchos jóvenes que van llegando y colman el cuadrilátero con su vocerío; luego, de a pocos, alegres y bullangueros abordan taxis o se pierden por las calles adyacentes. A eso de las diez de la noche, cuando el espacio se va raleando y una gélida briza invade la ciudad, Ricardo y Martín deciden seguir el cauce juvenil. Avanzan por la calle Real y doblan hacia el jirón Puno donde el tránsito se entorpece por los autos que pugnan y a su vez se detienen para que desciendan los pasajeros que van llegando. El rumor de cafés, tiendas, tabernas y discotecas envuelven la atmósfera. Bufidos de motores, risas, gritos, bocinas y puertas y rejas que se cierran. Recalan en El Cerezo y, pasada la medianoche, atraídos por las luces y la música que explota en los locales, calle abajo, ingresan al Vikingo. La taberna hiede: el humo de cigarrillos y el aroma de los calientitos —cañazo, azúcar, té y limón— se mezcla con el humor de los cuerpos y la pestilencia a orines y desinfectante del baño. En el ambiente suena, vigoroso y sensual, Mujer amante de Rata Blanca: Uuuh debo saber si en verdad en algún lado estaaás. Se abren paso entre mesas abarrotadas y, en un rincón de mortecinas luces, encuentran unos sofás de cuero sintético. Un mozo, que aparece entre el sofoco y la bruma del local, se acerca con displicencia y ellos piden una jarra de «caliente». En las mesas se ven grupos de chicos vestidos de negro envueltos entre nubes y espirales de humo agitando sus melenas. Unos sucios acordes remecen el entablado y, las pantallas, suspendidas de las vigas de madera, muestran el All apologies de Nirvana. Entonces es Ricardo quien las ve, el objetivo y blanco perfectos: dos chicas solitarias justo en el extremo opuesto, en diagonal, al fondo del salón, casi imperceptibles desde su perspectiva, camufladas bajo la penumbra de una gran pantalla. Entrada la madrugada, la taberna se va despejando y descubre las inquietas cabelleras entintadas bajo los haces de luz; cruzan miradas y las risas disforzadas se hacen patentes, imperativas, incesantes. Ahora suena un viejo tema de The Cure, Play for today: …you expect me to act like a lover…, que excita a las muchachas. Ricardo se decide y, movido por el jugueteo del bajo y la guitarra, va hacia ellas ejecutando pequeños pasos de baile. Martín desde su ubicación lo ve avanzar convertido en una sombra, presentarse e inclinarse para hablarles señalándolo a él como punto de referencia. Los ojos vivaces, enmarcados entre cabellos rubio y azabache, se encienden; vivarachas apuran sorbos de cerveza, se incorporan y siguen la senda que Ricardo les marca. La de pelo amarillo pajizo, con un lunarcito orbitando sus labios, se acomoda junto a Ricardo; la otra, risueña y dócil, al lado de Martín. Una mesera de aire selvático deja una jarra de caliente para los jóvenes, un par de cervezas para las señoritas y un tazoncito de canchita tostada. Pasadas las dos de la mañana Ricardo y Martín apuran besos y recorren cálidos muslos. Antes de las tres de la madrugada, emparejados y tambaleándose, descienden los sucios tablones de las escaleras; salen del local lanzando risotadas, sintiéndose dueños y dueñas del mundo y se pierden entre el frio de la madrugada. Al mediodía del domingo, el sub oficial Peredo, de la División de Investigación Criminal de la Policía, ojea el cuaderno de huéspedes del hostal Monterrico: comprueba 3.30 a.m. como hora de ingreso, y unos nombres y números de identificación falsos. Es lo que puede verificar el oficial luego de recibir la llamada de emergencia del hostelero comunicándole que, en la habitación 203, habían encontrado «un par de jóvenes en estado de inconsciencia».

—Lo más triste fue lo de sus viejos —me dice mientras remueve el hielo con una varilla y apura un sorbo—. Cuando se enteraron que la fiscalía cerró el caso, se volvieron huraños y empezaron a tener visiones: dicen que lo veían y que hasta hablaban con él.

Tras el sepelio, Don Vicente García y doña Leonor Gonzales, padres de Martín, conservaron la habitación tal como la dejara su hijo la noche del sábado. Sobre la cómoda de madera levantaron un altar con dos fotografías: una de su primera comunión y otra de los tres cuando Martín ingresó a la universidad. Al pie de los retratos encajaron, sobre un candil, una cerilla blanca que antes de irse a dormir encendían y juntos rezaban padrenuestros y avemarías. Una tarde de invierno, después del lonche, cuando doña Leonor buscaba en los cajoncitos del repostero unos fósforos para cambiar la consumida velita, oyó aquella canción que Martín solía escuchar. Se dirigió escaleras arriba de donde parecía brotar la música y, al abrir la puerta del dormitorio, halló a su hijo en ella; lo vio como aquel sábado, antes de la tragedia, alistándose para salir. En el mini componente se escuchaba el Even flow de Pearl Jam. Quiso correr a su encuentro, decirle algo, pero al ver que él le devolvía una mirada cargada de reproche que, en medio de la sorpresa, no entendió, se contuvo. Retrocedió, juntó la hoja de la puerta y permaneció pegada al marco, silente, espiándolo hasta que el asombro se convirtió en una especie de ensueño.

—A veces creo que como sus viejos yo también empiezo a perder la razón —me dice. Da una fuerte pitada, suelta una cascada de humo por la nariz y vacía su vaso de un gran sorbo. Su mirada, intensificada por las luces de los televisores, refleja amargura, dolor; respira hondo y se restriega ansioso en la silla—. Si caes en desgracia en este país de mierda y no tienes suerte o no eres hijo de alguien importante, a las autoridades no les interesas.

Cuando Ricardo entendió que la policía no podía hacer más y ni siquiera tenía indicios que llevaran a las asesinas, se impuso dar por él mismo con las autoras. Cada fin de semana, convertido en un errante nocturno, deambulaba por bares, discotecas, tabernas e incluso prostíbulos, perdido entre el humo del cigarrillo y abundante licor, queriendo reconocer aquellos rostros que aún le devolvía su memoria.

—¿Te acuerdas esa canción…? —me dice de pronto. Los haces de luz rompen la penumbra y su rostro se transforma. Fija la mirada en la pantalla, tamborilea sobre la mesa, se quita el cigarro de la boca y canta—: Eveeen flow thooouughts aaarriive liiike butterfliiiees.

Al rato, un mozo se nos acerca y nos anuncia que el local va a cerrar. Salimos y, por el jirón Puno, vamos calle abajo siguiendo el itinerario de aquella vez. Ricardo avanza como impelido por una fuerza invisible, no para de fumar y su mirada inquieta refleja euforia y una especie de ira contenida. No deja de hablar y sus movimientos son rápidos pero a la vez torpes. Intento escucharlo y seguirle el hilo: quiere que vayamos al Vikingo como aquella noche con Martín. Llegamos eufóricos pero, en la recepción, antes de tomar la gran escalera de tablones, dos vigilantes nos cierran el paso. El señor no puede ingresar, está mareado, si gusta pase usted, me dice uno de ellos. Al escucharlo se enoja y les lanza una grosería, el otro lo mira con desprecio y se le acerca como retándolo; yo aparto a Ricardo y me disculpo con ellos. Damos media vuelta. A esta hora, el frío de la madrugada, golpea fuerte; una pareja, sentada en una de las bancas, parece discutir: el chico suplica y ella tiene el rostro cubierto con las manos. Vamos, me dice, te invito un par de jarras de ron en el Scarlett. Lo sigo, avanzamos por Giráldez calle arriba hasta una especie de terraplén que alguna vez, pienso, sirvió de acceso a una playa de estacionamiento. Atravesamos una puerta batiente de vidrios iluminada con luces de neón y damos a un amplio salón a media luz que hiede a una mezcla de desinfectante y aromatizador. En la barra vemos chicas en minifalda y lencería, alguna de ellas llevan solo braguitas y strapless de colores; las piernas cruzadas sobre los taburetes forrados de marroquín y los zapatones y botas balanceándose me ponen nervioso. Ricardo las observa y ellas nos sonríen, se acerca y las escruta con la mirada como si pasara revista. De pronto, detrás de la barra, un hombre que lleva una camisa de algodón y lentes, lo encara: “Usted…, por favor, retírese”. Ricardo le lanza una fiera mirada, inmovil lo apunta con el dedo, el rostro idiotizado. Vámonos de esta mierda, me dice, tomándome del hombro. Afuera las calles estan desiertas y silentes. Unos perros hurgan en los basureros y el olor de los chifas a fritura, sillao, caldo de pollo y huevo frito me provoca una arcada. Hago parar un taxi, subimos y le digo al taxista que nos lleve a la Rivera donde Ricardo tiene su habitación.

Al llegar lo noto más calmado, aunque su expresión es sombría. Lo acompaño hasta la entrada de un edificio a oscuras, de cuatro pisos, sin pintar, de acabado rústico y con puertas y ventanas de hierro. Abre la puerta con dificultad y antes de despedirse me dice:

—¿Crees en fantasmas y aparecidos, condenados, almas y espíritus errantes…?

—La verdad que no… —le digo—; pero habría que estar en el pellejo de los deudos para saber lo que se siente y vive.

—Ja, ja, ja… —suelta una carcajada que resuena en la madrugada—. Solo los niños creen en esas estupideces. No sabes las ganas que tengo de ver a Martín y hablar con él, cada vez que puedo lo invoco a la media noche. Hasta pensé contratar un médium, uno de esos pendejos que dicen entablar contacto con los muertos y espíritus malignos. ¿Sabes en lo que sí creo…?

—¿En el diablo, los extraterrestres y ovnis?

—No me vaciles... Creo en la música que es real y te transporta a otra dimensión.

— ¿Como el grunge que a Martín y a La Rusita les gustaba?

Da media vuelta, cierra la puerta de fierro y se pierde por el sombrío callejoncito.

Al mediodía me llama y me dice que ya no puede más y que si se queda en esta ciudad va a enloquecer. “Me voy de este pueblo; mi tío Lucho tiene un mini marquet en Lima y necesita apoyo. Así que me largo por buen tiempo, salgo esta misma noche”.

Antes de que colgara le deseé buena suerte y le dije que no se preocupara y que era lo mejor que hacía.

Por la tarde, decido visitar a los padres de Martín que viven en un barrio a las afueras de la ciudad, cruzando el rio Mantaro. Cuando llego, veo en el horizonte grises nubarrones que se van agrupando. El viento que se desprende de la cordillera hiere mi rostro y una tenue llovizna empieza a caer. A lo lejos los relámpagos rasgan la atmosfera seguido del estruendo que producen los rayos al chocar con la superficie.

Avisto el chalet de dos pisos de cemento e ingreso por el pequeño jardincillo con algunas plantas y árboles marchitos por falta de riego. Presiono el timbre, pero nadie me atiende; luego intento con los nudillos y toco la puerta de madera. Al rato, se abre una hoja a medias y aparece doña Leonor, el rostro inexpresivo y el talante hostil.

—Buenas, señora… —me apresuro a saludar.

—Si…, ¿qué desea…?

—Soy Manuel, señora. ¿Se acuerda de mí...?

Hace una pausa, me mira fijamente y luego me dice:

—Lo siento, pero no podemos hablar con usted.

No sé qué decir, me quedo paralizado; luego ella se muestra y se detiene en el umbral como resguardando la entrada.

—Es una pena que las autoridades y los amigos de mi hijo lo hayan defraudado —su voz es áspera, firme—; por favor no regrese, nosotros y Martín se lo vamos a gradecer.

Asiento con la cabeza, doy media vuelta y me alejo hacia el paradero de la carretera central que queda a dos cuadras de la casa. La amenaza de tormenta se ha ido de pronto y en lo alto la luna brilla en todo su esplendor; al sur el firmamento se va tachonando de estrellas. Una ligera ventisca desprende un fresco y agradable olor a tierra mojada. Los faroles del alumbrado público se encienden e iluminan las calles sin pavimentar.

Me vuelvo para ver la casa de Martín y la que fuera su habitación en el segundo piso con vista a la calle. A través de las cortinas logro distinguir unas débiles y parpadeantes lenguas de fuego, entre amarillas y bermellón, que iluminan el interior junto a un confuso ajetreo de extrañas sombras que van de un lado a otro. Avanzo y me alejo del lugar, quizá para siempre.

Justo antes de llegar a la intersección con la carretera diviso en la esquina unas luces de colores que chisporrotean en el pórtico de un desmañado edificio. Del lugar brota música intensa y unos jóvenes vestidos con casacas y poleras negras ingresan a lo que claramente es una fiesta de metaleros, dark o punks. En la entrada, compro un par de cigarrillos mentolados de una vendedora sentada entre el ángulo de la vereda y la pared, cubierta con un grueso pañolón marrón. Enciendo uno en la velita que tiene confundida en el azafate lleno de galletas, caramelos, frunas, chicles, halls y gaseosas. Pago cinco soles a un sujeto de camisa azul que permanece al lado de un vigilante e ingreso. En el interior suena el Smell like young spirit de Nirvana; las luces estroboscópicas disparan sus haces sobre los rostros que parecen representar un desafío juvenil. Al rededor del recinto, pegadas a las paredes, se han colocado viejas sillas de madera; me siento en una de ellas y, a través del humo del cigarrillo, observo el pequeño baile caótico que se va armando en medio. Agazapado entre ellos, moviéndose desaforado y listo para saltar al ruedo, veo a un muchacho que viste un polo de Metallica; en una de sus muñecas, adivino, resplandeciente y enigmático, una esclava de plata que me recuerda a la de Martín.

(Fin)

#relato #allapologies #victorserge #librodecuentos

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fanfic-recs-01 · 1 year

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Bagginshield Fics

This is a list of Thorin Oakenshield/Bilbo Baggins fics I like on AO3, if you have any recs for me feel free to send me some!

Just a warning there is a lot here so I organized it best I could.

Updated 5/15/24

Courting Misunderstandings

Overcoming Barriers by Aloneindarknes7

~Most hobbits are isolated from the rest of the races and they only know their own language. Bilbo knows how to speak with elves, but it's a group of dwarves that come to his rescue. He can fight alongside Thorin without speaking, but not knowing the language when suddenly traveling with a group of strange dwarves becomes a bit of a problem. Especially when Bilbo doesn't even know that Thorin has declared them bonded.~

Courting Mr Baggins by Lothlorien

~Thorin decided to court Bilbo. The only problem was, the hobbit didn't seem to have noticed.~

the heart of the stone (is where the gems are) by allapologies

~“And it is highly doubtful you agreed to marry Thorin for his looks,” Bofur says.

“Beg pardon?” Bilbo says.

“Meaning no offense,” Bofur says, quite cheery. “He is distinctive in his unconventionality, I’ll give you that.”~

a tale of ivory table cloth and ruined weddings by Imagined, rottingflower, Scarlet_Ribbons

~In which Bilbo is getting slightly exasperated with the fact that no one will tell him why he has such a big role in Thorin's wedding, what he is supposed to be doing there, and who Thorin's betrothed is. And is also a little confused about why the thought of Thorin marrying someone else bothers him so much.~

At A Wedding by femmebingley

~“I speak of Thorin’s marriage,” Dain announced.

Bilbo’s mind stuttered to a stop. “What?”

“Thorin’s upcoming marriage. It is widely expected.”

Everything in the Great Hall suddenly seemed louder, almost suffocating. A cold tension swept through Bilbo’s body as the idea tried to take hold. Thorin? Marriage? To whom?~

How To Win A Hobbit's Affection by Tehri

~There are a few key differences in how hobbits and dwarves court. These differences can lead to a good deal of confusion, and while Thorin is certainly not the image of a subtle dwarf, Bilbo is still utterly confused about what is going on.~

101 of Dwarven Haircare: Combs, Razors and Other Scary Stories by jeza_red

~Dwarf hair is different, okay?

Cultural shock and confusion with strangely funny results. Also a thread of understanding between two confused parties and a little comb that is more precious than whole Erebor.~

Oh, You're Guarding the Gates by Lapin

~Dwarven courtship and Hobbit courtship are different, but not too different. Still, it helps if both parties are aware the courtship is in fact happening and quite serious.

Not that anyone was planning on saying no, of course. It's just polite to be asked first.~

Safe and Distant by Lindzzz

~Bilbo never bothers denying that he is a slight, little bit, probably infatuated with Thorin. It’s not something that bothers him. Really. He’s pretty sure that everyone very likely has a little flutter in their chest for the dwarf. He’s something grand and unattainable. And it’s really much safer if it stays that way.~

How To Court A Hobbit by stravaganza

~I would like a fic where Thorin is just really really bad at flirting. And he tries really hard but somehow it just doesn’t work and he gets more and more frustrated which isn’t helping. It’s kind of ridiculous, really. He can face orcs and wargs and orcs ON wargs but whenever he tries to have a civil conversation with Bilbo the words somehow get switched around before he can speak them.~

Something to Start With by MulaSaWala, storyforsomeone

~where some things get lost in translation, courting mishaps have the whole kingdom losing their minds, and simple acts of kindness and love can go a long way.~

The Courting Habits of the Line of Durin by diemarysues

~Hobbits didn’t have such things as courting rituals – they were uncomplicated folk. They announced their affections with flowers or a cooked meal, a shared pipe or simply a kiss – and then there were meetings with both families and a date set for the wedding.

Dwarves, as he kept discovering, were a completely different kettle of fish.~

An Accidental Engagement by potentiality_26

~Bilbo's fake-it-'til-you-make-it interpretation of dwarven culture is working quite well for him, thank you very much-all the way up until it really, really isn't.~

so many beautiful reasons by starr_falling

~They say actions speak louder than words. Thorin hoped his actions would tell Bilbo all he could not say of his feelings. But when courting someone of a different culture, perhaps, a few words would not go astray.~

as is the custom by ever_yours

~After everything, Bilbo becomes an integral part of castle workings—and honestly, there’s not much waiting for him back at the Shire. So he stays, and decides to learn more about dwarrow culture while he’s at it. As it turns out, dwarf kings are significantly more affectionate than he’d expect... (Or: Four dwarf traditions Bilbo adopted, and one very pleasant custom that dwarves and hobbits share.)~

It's a braid thing (you wouldn't understand) by authoressjean

~When Thorin offers to braid his hair, Bilbo reluctantly agrees, if just to have something to remember the dwarf by.

Except it doesn't do Thorin any favors. Bilbo was already attractive enough, and now there are braids. In his hair.

And if Fili and Kili don't stop snickering, Thorin's content to return to Erebor without his heirs.~

Previous Engagements by Lunarflare14

~After the Battle of Five Armies Thorin and Company have a new task: rebuilding their reclaimed home. Suddenly Bilbo finds himself up to his ears in responsibility and he surprises himself with how well he can navigate negotiations with elf dignitaries, farmers in Dale, and a dwarf king who has patience for neither.But as Spring approaches a caravan from the Blue mountains brings something everyone had nearly forgotten: the dwarf woman Thorin promised his hand to many years ago.~

Death Misunderstandings

An Unexpected Invitation (And What Happened Next) by serenbach

~Almost a year has gone past since the Battle of Five Armies and Bilbo is still very much mourning for Thorin, who died of his injuries on the battlefield before Bilbo had a chance to say goodbye or try to make amends with him.

When he receives an invitation to a special memorial to commemorate all those who died, Bilbo knows he cannot go. The memories are still too raw and painful.

So he writes a heartfelt letter to Fili, the new king of Erebor, explaining his absence.

Fili, however, is not the one who reads the letter...~

The "Dying" Hobbit by Resacon1990

~"It's just a cold," Gandalf says the following morning when Bilbo wakes up feeling completely under the weather, "a few days rest in bed will do you good, dear fellow."

Or, the one where Bilbo has a cold and everyone thinks he's dying.~

alive by ara_the_jedi (orphan_account)

~Bilbo fled Erebor before his friends could be buried, before he had to see Thorin encased in stone. He returns to the Shire and settles into a life of unsociability and some amount of loneliness, but finds comfort in the figures of the children of Hobbiton. After twenty years, however, his luck is gone, and Bilbo has to flee the Shire with Frodo, Sam, Merry, and Pippin, and with four very young Hobbits, there is only one place he can turn to.~

A Long List of Happy Endings by vicious_summer

~“–Come Durin’s Day, the Mountain will host great entertainments, games, and feasting in your name and in the names of the other thirteen of the Company. Your path through all of Arda shall be made smooth to ensure your welcome in our lands, Bilbo Baggins. I bring this summons as it was sent from the Throne of Thorin, King Under the Mountain.”

Bilbo’s heart, racing as it had been from this thrilling invitation, seemed to trip over itself at the name. “Thorin?” he whispered, and he stepped forward without thinking.~

We Are The Lost Ones by stealthestars

~Believing the banishment of Bilbo Baggins still stands, Fíli and Kíli tend to the severely injured hobbit in secret, unaware that Thorin's gold madness has cleared, leaving behind the guilt and anguish of believing his hobbit died in the Battle.~

Spoonful Of Sugar by RainyDayDecaf

~“You see, before we all escaped from Mirkwood, I might have… done something. To Thranduil. Something rather petty and immature and not at all respectable.”

In which laughter cures greed, humiliation trounces pride, and even the smallest of pranks can change the course of the future.~

Fics with Frodo

The Road Delivered Us Home by keelywolfe

~In the years since Bilbo left Erebor, he has lost his respectability, gained a nephew, and gotten on with life at Bag End.

He'd left aside adventure for the comforts and peace of his little Hobbit hole, and for the love of a child who needed him. Though perhaps, adventures can yet find him.~

There Is One They Could Follow (One They Could Call Thain) by Oakensting (WorseOmens)

~Bilbo returned to the Shire after the Battle of the Five Armies, leaving Thorin behind with half of his heart.

Years slip by peacefully, until an orc-pack ravages the Shire and ruins the life-giving soil. Bilbo manages to evacuate a small number of his people before the attack, but their homeland is lost, and they are left to wander in the harsh wilds of Middle Earth.

It doesn’t take long before the hobbits begin to look east, far over the Misty Mountains cold…~

Heartbeat of the Mountain by chrystal896

~Bilbo adjusts to caring for a nephew and realizes that the Shire holds no future for him anymore. It is time to return to the mountain. With Frodo in tow, he sets off to find out if Thorin regrets his decisions and to discover if the mountain can handle not one, not two, but three troublemakers.~

An Unexpected Addition by karategalFandoms

~All of the dwarves survive the Battle of the Five Armies, but Bilbo must return to the Shire to sort out his old life and make way for a new one in Erebor. Over one year later, Bilbo comes back to the Lonely Mountain with a recently orphaned Frodo. King Thorin isn't quite sure what to make of this new, tiny addition to his Company.~

Eastern Homecomings by Sarcasmcat

~After an unprecedented Goblin attack on the Shire, Bilbo finds himself whisked back to Erebor with his son he never wanted Thorin to know about.~

Fly Away Home! by Mozarts Fantasy (MozartsFantasy)

~Had he managed to make it all this way only to be cut down just as the lonely mountain finally came into view? Glancing toward the tree where he knew his small charges to be hiding the lone hobbit summoned what was left of his strength and raced forward... a battle cry wrenched itself from his sore throat as his letter opener collided with his opponent’s weapons. If this was how he was going to die then so be it, but he would take as many of the enemy with him as possible! He would protect these children with every ounce of strength that remained in his body, even if it was the last thing he did!~

An Unexpected Son by Luthorchickv2

~Bilbo left Erebor with a treasure more precious then gold or rings. What happens when the dwarves discover Frodo? Will Thorin bend enough to admit he was wrong to force Bilbo to leave?~

Misc.

Quietus by shinigami714

~Hobbits have a defense mechanism that takes effect when they grow weak and cold. Bilbo recognizes as it begins to take hold of him during the journey to Erebor.~

None So Blind by Chrononautical

~After his heroic sacrifice on behalf of the dwarves of Erebor, Bilbo will be well cared for. Naturally, he hates the idea. Crossing half the world, riding barrels, and fighting spiders was supposed to change things. No one should need to carry him anymore. Thorin understands such pride better than most, but he will stop at nothing to have the hobbit safe in his arms.~

Meeting You for the First Time (Again) by therunawaypen

~In the aftermath of the Battle of the Five Armies, Thorin required extensive medical care. Even after it was declared he would live, he was given a powerful tonic to dull the pain.

Bilbo arrives to see if Thorin still hates him, or if his betrothed still loves him.

But a drugged Thorin doesn't know who Bilbo is. Only that he's the most beautiful thing he's ever seen.~

Here Be Dragons by Thorinoakentwig

~the one where Bilbo is a dragon and still gets roped into reclaiming Erebor, Gandalf is a meddling Wizard, and Bilbo may have confusing feelings for Thorin Oakenshield~

The Inevitable Love Story between Two Oblivious Idiots by Bgtea

~In which everyone sees the budding romance between Thorin and Bilbo, except, of course, for Thorin and Bilbo themselves.

Also, Dis brings the fear of God in other Dwarves and likes to meddle in her big brother's romantic life, and if she has to do this through scathingly written letters, then so be it.~

A Passion For Mushrooms by Chrononautical

~There are many trials for a hobbit attempting to make a life among dwarves. A hobbit wants a garden. A hobbit wants to eat regular meals. A hobbit wants friends, good books, and comfortable chairs. Bilbo does his best to carve out a little hobbit life for himself in the mountain. If only there were not one final obstacle. For a hobbit heart wants love, and among dwarves that is a sticky subject.~

Recovery, Redemption and Romance by Moonbeam (luvsbitca)

~When Thorin is injured in the Battle of the Five Armies, Bilbo surprises everyone with his healing abilities. Then as Erebor starts to rebuild he continues to surprise people with his knowledge and skills. On top of everything else that is occuring there is a dwarf king and a hobbit who might be trying to court one another without the other knowing - while their companions are either helpful or confusingly gleeful.~

For Better or For Worse by TheEmcee

~A long time ago, a hobbit, a Baggins of Bag End, saved a dwarf prince, one of the line of Durin, and died in the process. As a result, the dwarf prince made a vow to the dying Baggins that one day one of his line would take a Baggins as a consort to repay the hobbit for his sacrifice. Years passed and Gandalf the Grey pays Bilbo Baggins a visit that will change his life for better or for worse.~

The Goblin and The Took by GiganticBearLemonade14

~Goblins have long and bitter memories but luckily hobbits have better aim.

Or, after his escape from Gollum, Bilbo stumbles upon the Company a little earlier than we see in the film, and proves himself more of a Took than anyone expected.~

The Color of Possibility by lindoreda

~When Bilbo puts himself between Thorin and Azog's blade, his mithril shirt protecting them both, it isn't long before some dwarves whisper that 'Oakenshield' might not be the best epithet for their king anymore. But for Bilbo, barred from Thorin's sight since the battle, this new epithet only adds to the sting. Spending his days caring for the recovering princes, Bilbo wonders how much more of this he can take, not suspecting his place at the center of a silent divide in the company.~

A Pretty Face by panickyintheuk

~Bilbo does his best to prove that he isn't completely shallow. The Company doesn't seem convinced, for some reason.~

Not Everyone Sees It by alkjira

~Already as a child Thorin learnt that he was not what anyone would call attractive, much less beautiful. (Thorin is ugly. Discuss.)~

Splitting Hairs by orphan_account

~Bilbo misinterprets some court gossip. He cuts his hair. Chaos ensues.~

A Simple Touch by SOABA

~Bilbo Baggins accidentally kills Smaug and has to figure out how to go tell the Dwarrow who are waiting for him to come back with that stupid stone.~

lay your troubles down by Avelera

~An extended version of "the acorn scene." Bilbo sees his chance to snap Thorin out of his madness, and takes it.~

The things left unsaid by Nirindel

~He was dying. That’s what you get from desperately trying to save a stubborn dwarf king, Bilbo thought bitterly as he tightly clenched the wound in his side. Although, the funny thing was, he would probably do it again, even knowing the consequences.~

If I could give my breath away (I would) by StupidFatPenguin

~Thorin loses his memory and quite forgets that the hobbit by his bedside whom he wishes to court and marry is already his husband. Everyone else find this hilarious.~

Zazin Amsâl by airebellah

~Throughout the quest to reclaim Erebor, Bilbo learned to deal with the many vexing behaviours of the Dwarves. One thing he could never adapt to, however, was their belief in superstition.~

The Age of Miscommunication by SilverSkiesAtMidnight

~“It’s got such a presence to it, even from a distance,” Bilbo says softly, and there’s a general murmur of awed agreement from the others. “Why, in all my fifty years, I never thought I’d see such a thing, and we haven’t even arrived yet!”

Thorin’s sword hits the ground with a clatter, and Balin chokes on his pipe.

The hobbit doesn’t look at Thorin, too busy thumping Balin on the back. Once the dwarf seems able to breathe again, he looks up, to find thirteen wide pairs of eyes fixed on him.

“What?” he says defensively, though he’s not sure what he’s defending.

“You’re how old?” Kíli squeaks.~

Colour-struck by northerntrash

~Soul mates are like adventures, Bilbo had often consoled himself. Nasty, disturbing, uncomfortable things that made you late for dinner. It was no great hardship that he had never met his, even if he couldn't tell which of his petunias were blue and which were purple.~

Not All That Glitters (Is Good For Your Health) by comatosecombat

~In his attempt to distract Smaug from attacking Lake-town, Bilbo accidentally destroys the One Ring of Power, saves the day and brings peace on Middle-Earth.

When it comes to him and Thorin, that resolves absolutely nothing.~

One of These Days (Again and Again) by authoressjean

~By a curse or a blessing from the Valar, Bilbo finds himself repeating the same horrific day of war outside of Erebor again and again. His repeats are always triggered when someone from the company falls. He suffers days and days on his own before the others begin to repeat the day with him.~

Customary by an_odd_ducky

~Hobbits rub noses to greet each other - a fact the dwarves don't know until they arrive in Rivendell and Elrond greets a surprised Bilbo by rubbing their noses together. Some of the company find it quite amusing, but Thorin is less than pleased. Fluff!~

A Hairy Misunderstanding by amethystviolist

~Bilbo was thrilled to finally sit down and trim his hair after long, long months on the road to Erebor. But when Thorin discovers Bilbo giving himself a haircut, all hell breaks loose. Bilbo is confused, the dwarves are all very worried and loud, and turns out there's some significant cultural differences no one thought to discuss with the resident hobbit. And a good pair of scissors have to pay the price for their misunderstanding.~

Oh, Son of A--- by StrivingArtist

~Imagine how pissed off you would be if you somehow ended up in Middle Earth in time to help, but you didn’t speak Westron. Or Sindarin. Or Khuzdul. All you have are proper nouns, and some random phrases like Mellon, and Amralime, and, oh yeah, the inscription from the One ring. because that’s going to go over well when you start spouting off long forgotten verse in the black tongue of Mordor…. So instead of eloquently explaining yourself and saving lives and falling in love with a character of your choice, you have to chase them around like a slightly more verbose Hodor, trying to learn a language and keep the dumb bastards alive.~

King's Ransom by Farasha

~Rather than offering Bard and Thranduil the Arkenstone, Bilbo offers to give them his share of the treasure if they will please go away. Unfortunately, neither of them is willing to believe Thorin will hand it over - which leads to a ransom plan that is, in Bilbo's opinion, quite ridiculous and doomed to fail from the start. But at least that blasted stone is out of the mountain.~

A King's Ransom by lilithiumwords

~"I have come to receive my claim of the treasure of the Kingdom of Erebor, as promised in my contract of employment signed by Thorin, son of Thráin, and Balin, son of Fundin. To get to the point, this jewel is worth a king's ransom. So, I'd like to trade for that, please. The king. Now."~

Great Things in Small Packages by pagination

~“Look,” Thorin said to Dwalin, after the halfling had miraculously survived a hundred foot fall and caught up with them after escaping a mountain full of ravenous goblins, the entire company had been cornered on a cliff by wargs and set fire to the trees they were on, Thorin himself had managed to avoid getting decapitated, and the whole lot of them had gotten an unexpected ride by oliphant-sized talking eagles. The halfling was still bubbling happily nearby, his stupidly beautiful eyes wide open and fawn-like. “Look,” Thorin said again, a little more firmly. “There’s something not right about all this.”~

Roots by xxSparksxx

~Here in Erebor, among the Dwarves who had reclaimed their home with blood and sweat, Bilbo could almost forget that he was a Hobbit of the Shire. He could almost forget that Hobbits were not as other beings of Middle-earth, and that a mountain devoid of rich plant life was not the place for one such as he.~

Fauntlery (continued) by orphan_account

~Drafting a contract is a gravely serious task in Dwarrow culture; a contract concerning courtship, betrothal, and marriage even more so. Bilbo, the formerly respectable Hobbit of Bag End, was no stranger to the business of contracts, although he seemed to have underestimated the vigor with which the scribes of Erebor took to their task. Despite Dwarven confusion, there are some things a Hobbit simply requires, even if that Hobbit will live in Erebor.~

Dwarven Standards by FandomFanficsGalore

~Based on the head canon I saw on Tumblr that Thorin is ugly in dwarf standards.

Well, Bilbo happens to disagree heartily. The company takes a break to bathe in a river during their journey. Misunderstandings occur and revelations are had.~

To Choose a Consort by Thevaen

~Thorin had to choose a consort. He knew that, and he also knew he didn't want a consort that was not the Hobbit. He doesn't, and instead stubbornly waits for a sign that the Hobbit himself would be willing to be such.~

Bilbo's Hair by StupidFatPenguin

~Through various events concerning his stray mess of outgrowing curls Bilbo finds he is much wiser – and much more included – in the culture of the dwarves.~

The Emerald Dragon Of Erebor by HildyJ for Asainaussie

~Many stories are told about dragons in Middle-earth, of their unfathomable largeness, their untold cruelty, and their greed. The story of Thorin Oakenshield’s quest also ends with a dragon – two, in fact: Smaug the Impenetrable and the Emerald Dragon of Erebor.~

Signs and Meanings by HildyJ

~It shouldn't matter to Thorin that the visiting hobbit cook doesn't speak his language. But it does.~

Status Symbol by littlebrownshoe (Wolfy_Tales)

~It started in Rivendell, where eyes followed Bilbo wherever he went. It happened again at Beorn's, and a third at Mirkwood. By the time they arrived at Bard's, Bilbo demanded an explanation.~

An Unexpected Hobbit by Middle_Earth_Mama

~Bilbo Baggins is not like other hobbits. In fact, the other inhabitants of The Shire wish he didn't exist, because Bilbo is different. Odd. Bilbo Baggins is a freak, and all the other hobbits know it. Thankfully, his strange talents will be most useful to a certain group of dwarves. Will he find his origins and learn to accept who he is?~

Small, But Fierce by DomesticGoddess

~As a result of a magical mishap during the trip to the lonely mountain, Bilbo is reverted to a wee little hobbitling. Only in body, of course. His adult mind is still very aware of the indignity of it all (seriously! He doesn't need to be coddled, carried, and fed like a child). It turns out, dwarves love children and there is nothing cuter than Hobbit children. ~

again and again and again by marzipan_menthol

~Bilbo can't die, and the company finds out much sooner than he had planned (implying he had been meaning to tell them at all, but, well, Bilbo would be a fool to believe anything would go as planned on this confounded journey).~

The Fine Print by airebellah

~It had been many years since Bilbo had seen his Dwarves. Driven by his loneliness and nostalgia, one night he decided to re-read the contract he had signed so many years ago, hoping to find catharsis. Instead, what he found was burning rage at all the ridiculous clauses the Dwarves had slipped in without his notice.~

Call You Home by northerntrash

~In which the Company are entirely too nosy about matters that are supposed to be a secret, and Bilbo learns that being concerned about propriety is overrated when you could be making friends instead.~

A Smith and his Forge by acervate

~Bilbo's door gets jammed one day. Luckily, a company of dwarves just so happened to have set up shop in front of the old smithy.~

Invisible vs Indivisible by Moirai

~The group of companions are ambushed at night by Orcs, who succesfully capture Bilbo. Fearing that their comrade is dead, the group moves on. Bilbo manages to escape by slipping on the ring and returns to the group, remaining invisible to everyone else. Seeing them mourn, he decides to keep the ring on until he finds the perfect moment to reveal himself. ~

Words are Important to Hobbits by TheAdventures_of_Me

~After the goblin caves, Bilbo eagerly rejoins the company only to find that they can't see him. Unsure of why he's invisible to them, Bilbo decides to follow the dwarves on the rest of their quest, only to find that they are quite vocal about what they think of him.~

heart of fire by Luxio_Nyx

~Every Hobbit in the Shire has a Season. The children of Summer are known for their fires, the Springs for their skills at gardening and healing, and the Autumns for the winds that they can bend to their will. Bilbo Baggins has a different Season, a cursed Season.~

The Oak and The Ash by sunryder

~Bilbo Baggins was not a particularly talented Guide. He knew that. His family knew that. Every last Hobbit in the four Farthings and Bree knew that.But that meant nothing when one morning an agony that wasn’t Bilbo’s ripped right through him, dropping him to his knees with a scream.~

Para Bellum by RyuuzaKochou

~Hobbits always survive; even where trained and experienced soldiers don't. Has no one ever wondered about this? Thorin and the Company learn that it takes more than luck to be small in a big world.~

Fear and Family (Or, the One Where Kíli Is the Sensible One) by Lumeleo

~After the Battle of Five Armies, Bilbo isn't sure of his welcome in the mountain, and thus returns to the Shire as soon as he can. Somewhat to his surprise, Ori goes with him -- but it turns out Ori has his own reasons for leaving Erebor behind. Well, Bilbo's quite used to being the talk of the Shire.~

Through the mist (I find you) by MiraHerondale

~Bilbo returns to Erebor two years after the Battle of the five Armies, invited by his friends to join the Durin's Day festivities. With his last memory of Thorin being him dying on the ice of Ravenhill, he worries he might not be entirely welcome. After all, he never heard about his banishment being revoked. What he finds, is simply much more devastating.~

Less Than the Best by Sullen_in_Love

~Erebor needs a queen, and Thorin is set to marry a dwarrowdam to be his consort. No matter how much it breaks his heart, Bilbo takes it upon himself to ensure Thorin only receives the best and decides to scope out the candidates. Everything goes well, and he finds one that looks promising, until he uncovers a rather disturbing fact about the crop of potential consorts.~

The Alliance by silverneko9lives

~The Blue Mountains would not take the immigrants of Erebor. The Shire was slightly more willing. On one condition…~

Catskins by AMBlue

~On the road to Erebor, Thorin and Bilbo found love, but after Bilbo's betrayal before the battle their relationship shattered. At the battle, Thorin was never fatally wounded and so never reconciled with Bilbo. Fearing that Goldlust still clouded Thorin’s mind, Bilbo chose to stay near Erebor (despite his banishment) in order to better protect his friends. Set two years post-BotFA, Bilbo works in the kitchens disguised as a dwarf below and Thorin rules with regret above~

Coats and Customs by imaginary_golux

~AU in which Smaug never happened: Thror arranges Thorin's marriage to a hobbit. Thorin isn't entirely sure what a hobbit is. Written for a prompt on the Hobbit Kink Meme.~

#bagginshield #fic recs #thorin oakenshield x bilbo baggins

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