#and that is me again talking about protective bagginshield | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

boogiewoogieweeb · 3 months

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naturally, em, all of your wips sound amazing BUT to choose just one i would LOVE to hear more about “markarth's eleven”!!

hello, helen my darling! 💖 thank you very much for the ask. this one's a bit sentimental, since it's been sitting in my wips/drafts folder since 2018, and every now and then i'll return to it and write a few lines, despite knowing full well the chances of me publishing it are very slim. it's going to get a bit long, so i've put the full synopsis and excerpt under the cut. that being said, i hope you enjoy it!

it's a hobbit trilogy/elder scrolls crossover that features kíli as a member of the thieves' guild. he's tasked by the current doyen of the thieves' guild, gríma wormtongue, to sabotage peace talks between the orcs of orsinium led by azog, and the jarl of markarth, thorin oakenshield, by planting a precious heirloom of the oakenshield clan (iykyk) on azog's person and then anonymously tipping thorin off that azog "stole" it during the summit.

unbeknownst to kíli, however, he's actually the long-lost son of dís, thorin's sister. once in markarth, he meets up with bilbo, a disgruntled former member of the thieves' guild and good friend of kíli's, to enact the plan, but is detained by guard captain fíli after being caught lifting a purse full of coin from one of the representatives, gandalf.

from there, the story dives deeper into the reasons for kíli's separation, the intrigue of why the thieves' guild (or more precisely, gríma) wants the peace talks sabotaged in the first place, and how kíli is going to get himself out of this mess without losing his (or anyone else's) life in the process.

i can tell you that it ends with kíli reuniting with his family, a war between orsinium and skyrim narrowly averted, an interesting twist featuring the legendary gray fox, and some background bagginshield.

and now, for that excerpt i promised:

“A shill job?”

Kili lowered his bow from where he'd been sighting one of the target dummies and frowned at the Doyen beside him. But for the two of them, the practice range was otherwise deserted; most of the other members of the Imperial City's Thieves Guild out on missions; and the remainder long since turned into their various beds, bunks, and cots.

“Orders straight from the top,” Grima said with a nod and an oily smile, before holding out a small packet. Kili knew from long experience that it contained his instructions, all necessary information on the target, enough coin to cover any expenses that might crop up, and most importantly, whatever plant was required to successfully complete the job. “It seems the Gray Fox has high expectations for you, Kili.”

Kili looked from the packet to Grima and back again, narrowing his eyes at the other man's unctuous tone. “I'm a fence, Wormtongue,” he said, ignoring the packet in favour of hefting his bow again, loosely knocking an arrow. “Everyone knows I run goods and protection. I don't go in for incrimination and blackmail.”

“Not even for a substantial reward?” In the torchlight, Grima's features seemed to twist and elongate, and his sallow skin looked almost waxy.

Kili snorted, straightened his posture and drew back his bow arm until he could feel the soft feathers of the fletching brush his cheek. “It'd have to be a pretty spectacular payout then,” he answered snidely, before loosing the arrow in one smooth motion.

It hit the target dead centre with a dull thunk, shaft quivering in the bullseye painted over the dummy's heart.

“Does eight thousand septims sound substantial enough?”

Kili faltered in the act of knocking another arrow, arms going slack as he turned to face Grima, eyes wide.

“Eight thousand septims? For a shill job?” Kili couldn't keep his disbelief from colouring his tone. “Who are we blackmailing then, the Emperor himself?”

“Nothing so easy as that,” Grima replied with a shrewd smirk, and held the packet out towards Kili again. As soon as Kili's fingers closed around it however, Grima gripped him by the shoulder with a bony hand and leaned in close enough that all Kili could smell was stale breath and the stench of lank, unwashed hair.

“Ah, but this is a highly confidential job,” Grima tutted conspiratorially with a mock grimace. “Discretion is essential, you understand, and therefore I can only let you take this if you're serious about it. A payout this size, why, think of all the trouble it could cause if word got out. I'd have every larcenist from here to bloody Akavir baying for it.” He finally let go of Kili, seeming to immediately sink into the shadows of the training room as he did. “So what will it be, Kili?”

Kili thought it over for a moment. That Grima was up to something, of that there was no question. On the other hand though, he'd have to be a stone-blind fool to walk away from eight thousand septims. With that kind of coin, he would finally be able to leave the Imperial City behind for good. Perhaps even retire to the countryside somewhere. A life free of worry, without guards always two steps behind him and the threat of the headsman’s axe hanging in everpresent menace above his neck.

“Well?”

“Give it here,” Kili muttered, swiping the packet. Grima's smile when he did was practically a leer.

---

Later, in the comfort of his own bunk, Kili pored over the information included in his packet, and carefully took note of each and every detail. In the morning, he'd burn all traces of it save for the plant and the coin, as was custom so as not to implicate the Guild in any way. Now though, he studied the mission brief until he could be sure he had it all committed to memory.

The words stood out starkly against the paper:

Target: Azog gro-Guldur, chieftain of Dol Guldur stronghold in the Druadach Mountains. Target will arrive in the city of Markarth in the province of Skyrim during the third week of Frostfall to attend negotiations for a truce between the leaders of the Western Reach bordering High Rock, Orsinium, and Skyrim. Will most likely be traveling with a small escort, moderate- to heavily armed. Intelligence suggests that the target will be put up on the top floor of an inn called the Raven's Roost, in Markarth's market district, to “prevent tensions with visiting Breton delegates”. Evidence to be planted on the target's person prior to the commencement of the welcoming feast, which is to occur on the 28th of Frostfall. City guard must be tipped off anonymously. Suggested time frame – mid-afternoon latest. No extraction possible.

Kili let out a low whistle. Suddenly, the size of the payout made a lot more sense.

Practically all of Tamriel had heard tell of the infamous Azog gro-Guldur.

The Bretons and Nords along the borders of the Western Reach knew him as Azog the Defiler, for his unchecked pillaging of their lands and the slaughter of any who opposed him. To the common folk of Orsinium, he was hailed as a god-king, rumoured to have been sired by Malacath himself; to its elite he was a barbarous madman who threatened to shatter the fragile equilibrium of a city-state constantly poised on the brink of collapse.

Even in Cyrodiil, rumour and conjecture lay thick about him, whispered tales of the orc-king who sought to eradicate Man and Mer alike for past slights against orc-kind.

Kili swallowed around the lump that had risen, unbidden, in his throat.

This was no mere shill job. This was the shill job of his time, possibly of the entire Age. Whoever wanted the orc out of the picture was ready to risk everything they had (and by extension, everything the Guild had as well) in order to succeed.

“No pressure then,” Kili muttered to himself.

#my asks #tag game

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rachelillustrates · 2 years

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Bagginshield notes upon a reread of "The Hobbit"

(Or a relisten, rather, via the "An Unexpected Journey" podcast. And thusly, I have no page numbers noted for reference. These being mostly gathered for personal eventual fanart purposes, now with a moment of commentary at the end.)

"Upon my word - Gandalf spoke true, as usual. A pretty fine burglar you make, it seems, when the time comes." - Thorin to Bilbo, once he finally finds him in the dungeons of Mirkwood.

"Then...the Dwarves' good feeling toward the Hobbit grew stronger every day."

"And there is no knowing what a Dwarf will not dare and do for revenge, and the recovery of his own." - In Laketown.

"Now is the time for our esteemed Mister Baggins, who has proved himself a good companion on our long road, and a Hobbit full of courage and resource far exceeding his size - and if I may say so, possessed of good luck far exceeding the usual allowance - now is the time for him to perform the service for which he was included in our Company. Now is the time for him to earn his reward. This is a great moment..."

.....

...By now he was quite familiar with Thorin too, and he knew what he was driving at. "If you mean you think it my job to go into the secret passage first, oh Thorin Thrainson Oakenshield, may your beard grow ever longer!" he said crossly, "Say so at once and have done! I may refuse - I've gotten you out of two messes already which were hardly in the original bargain, so that I am, I think, already owed some reward. But... third time pays for all, as my father used to say. And somehow I don't think I shall refuse..."

.....

"....they would all have done their best to get him out of trouble, if he got into it, as they did in the case of the Trolls, at the beginning of their adventures, before they had any particular reasons for being grateful to him."

(all above in context of Bilbo's entering the mountain and confronting Smaug first.)

General note without quote - Thorin being the first to insist that they go after him, when he cries that his torch has gone out, crying for help, in the darkness of the hoard while Smaug is gone.

Also he does still put the mithril on Bilbo himself, like in the film.

Bilbo is the one that calls Thorin back to his sense from the first traces of gold sickness, reminding him that they haven't defeated Smaug yet and they still need to find a way out. Vibes of Sacred Marriage like many moments in the films.

"Oh dear me... more walking and more climbing without breakfast! I wonder how many breakfasts and other meals we have missed inside that nasty... timeless hole!" ....

"Come come," said Thorin laughing. His spirits had begun to rise again, and he rattled the precious stones in his pockets. "Don't call my palace a nasty hole. You wait until it has been cleaned and redecorated." - On Thorin being cheered and amused by Bilbo's grumbling after they've gotten out of the mountain (after they've visited the hoard for the first time, too).

And just the fact that the deathbed apology happens at all.

So, having done this re-listen of the original tale, I'm struck by two things.

1 - Tolkien probably intended no romance at all between anyone in this book. Which is great from an aro/ace perspective (which I say with love and enthusiasm, as a demisexual myself). BUT nothing in the book would prevent Bagginshield from being possible.

2 - This version of the story feels very very much to me like the version Bilbo would tell - to others, and himself - after coming home and settling back into Bag End and embracing how he's grown... and accepting what happened. Like talking about it that way, leaving much of the details of his emotional connections with anyone (including Thorin) out of the telling, makes it easier to move on and keep living. Very much in the same line of having friendzoned himself at the end of "The Battle of the Five Armies," to create that distance and protect his broken heart.

(Which doesn't account for the lack of focus on the Dwarrow reclaiming Erebor as their homeland, since there is zero focus on or mention of that in the book at all, but in general I accept this headcanon as a patch between the book and the films - which I appreciate all the more now.)

So, there 🌱

More Bagginshield meta:

~ Thoughts on "An Unexpected Journey" - Thoughts on "The Desolation of Smaug" - Thoughts on "The Battle of Five Armies" - Thoughts on their vibe and why they resonate - Thoughts on Dwarven Ones and Hobbit soul-matches at their first meeting - at the mountain ~

#bagginshield #lotr meta #inspiration #otp

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grrlofswirls · 3 years

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Mithril & Secrets (Bagginshield Thoughts)

So, I’ve been thinking about the mithril coat and Bagginshield again, because of a quote I recently came across while doing some research.

“‘Also there is this!’ said Bilbo, bringing out a parcel which seemed to be rather heavy for its size. He unwound several folds of old cloth, and held up a small shirt of mail. It was close-woven of many rings, as supple almost as linen, cold as ice, and harder than steel. It shone like moonlit silver, and was studded with white gems. With it was a belt of pearl and crystal.

‘It’s a pretty things, isn’t it?’ said Bilbo, moving it in the light. ‘And useful. It is my dwarf-mail that Thorin gave me. I got it back from Michel Delving before I started, and packed it with my luggage: I brought all the mementoes of my Journey away with me, except the Ring. But I did not expect to use this, and I don’t need it now, except to look at sometimes. You hardly feel any weight when you put it on.’

‘I should look - well, I don’t think I should look right in it,’ said Frodo.

‘Just what I said myself,’ said Bilbo. ‘But never mind about looks. You can wear it under your outer clothes. Come on! You must share this secret with me. Don’t tell anybody else! But I should feel happier if I knew you were wearing it. I have a fancy it would turn even the knives of the Black Riders,’ he ended in a low voice.” (The Fellowship of the Ring, page 364, emphasis added in bold)

I find it very interesting that Bilbo asked Frodo to keep the mithril coat a secret, which hints that Bilbo indeed knew it’s true value, and that it is something that must be kept safe. But, more importantly, there is also something so soft and intimate about how he talks about and holds the coat, which, to me, suggests there is a greater sentimental value to the object for Bilbo. It isn’t a mere tool to protect his nephew, but rather a precious memory from a time long ago.

I also suspect Bilbo may have figured out what Thorin may have been trying to say to Bilbo by giving him the mithril coat: that it was meant as a betrothal gift. Perhaps he’s kept it a secret, because he knows most people would not believe a simple hobbit is worthy of such “a kingly gift”. Gimli’s response to the coat certainly speaks volumes too:

“‘And all the arrows of all the hunters in the world would be in vain,’ said Gimli, gazing at the mail in wonder. ‘It is a mithril-coat. Mithril! I have never seen or heard tell of one so fair. Is this the coat Gandalf spoke of? Then he undervalued it. But it was well given!’” (The Fellowship of the Ring, Page 440, emphasis added in bold)

With all this, I’m once again tempted to write a fanfic about Bilbo’s mithril coat, Thorin gifting it to him, and how others view both the item and their relationship.

#The Hobbit #Bagginshield #Thilbo #Bilbo Baggins #Thorin Oakenshield #Mithril #Fan Theory #Happy Hobbit Day everyone enjoy my ramblings!#Gif warning #Long Post

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burglarbagginsbag · 3 years

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Alright so I have this fic idea which I’m probably not going to write out bc I’m not fluent in English BUT my idea that i had for a bamf!Bilbo bagginshield fic:

Everyones already seen it and probably read it but Bilbo is a bamf (AU)

Important background information: Bilbo is like half dwarf (regarding strength, life expectancy, etc) but still has the appearance of a hobbit which is why (even though he has been out on adventures already) he was able to settle down in the shire and blend in with the mass without any problems

So when Gandalf goes to bag end to recrute Bilbo as a burglar Bilbo recognizes him immediately bc they’ve been on adventures together before (and yes bilbo is happy to see gandalf bc im a sucker for bilbo and gandalf being friends)

And Gandalf is like “ok you see theres this dwarf king and his 12 ppl who need to reclaim their homeland and i dont want them to get themselves killed by accident so could you go with them?”

and bilbo is like “i actually have enough gold i dont rly need a new job but it sounds kinda fun, bring them over for dinner and then tell me more”

So Gandalf is satisfied and tells thorin and his company that they are expected for dinner

When Bilbo prepares for the evening he watches out that some of his curls cover his eyes and a part of his face and puts on baggy clothes so his stature isnt revealed bc no one outside the shire really knows what bilbo looks like - they only heard stories about him and bilbo wants to keep it this way

Dwalin arrives and is like “at your service” and Bilbo is actually polite and everything, shows him the dining room and welcomes dwalin and dwalin is like “??? isnt this a hobbit shouldnt he be kinda freaked out? ok guess gandalf was right when he said that this dud is chill”

and so bilbo welcomes all the dwarfes (except thorin of course bc this dwarf lost his way twice) and they are all a bit surprised by the hospitality but dont complain

So movie verse they eat and throw food and all and even though bilbo is not pleased he doesnt say anything but observes his guests, cocks an eyebrow at gandalf from time to time while gandalf shoots him half amused half apologetical smiles

And then thorin knocks, everyones going silent again and gandalf says “he’s here”

And Bilbo opens the door by himself looks at the dwarf while thorin just enters not even looking at bilbo but greeting gandalf and you see in gandalf’s face that he is half panicking about what bilbo will say but bilbo just snorts amused and goes back to the dining room

gandalf follows him so the rest of the company follows gandalf and bilbo just shoots a look at the wizard like “are you serious you said dwarfs are coming here not unpolite and ungracefull beings without manners”

Gandalf tries to cough the awkwardness away “ALRIGHT, now that we’re all here we shall discuss the plan!!”

And Thorin just doesn’t get it, he doesnt get why gandalf seems so nervous around the hobbit whose name he doesnt even know (he leans into Balin and asks for the hobbits name out of pure interest but balin just shrugs realizing that the hobbit hasnt given away his name to anyone)

So now they entered the hobbit hole, ate bilbos food and dont even know what he completely looks like or what his name is

Gandalf repeats the plan mostly for bilbo so he knows whats going on and after the wizard is done bilbo hears a “thats what we need a burglar for!”

And gandalf looks so done bc he looks at bilbo and bilbo just snorts and smirks because all his life and after all he has done he has never been called a simple “burglar”

Bilbos occupation is the following: his mother was still belladonna and a took and his father was like mentioned above a dwarf, so while both of them died they still taught him a lot. His father showed him how to fight in general and with a sicklesword and how to throw knives. Training was never a problem for bilbo because (half dwarf) he has a lot of potential strength. His mother taught him about stealth and plants especially poisonous ones so soon bilbo was not only able to fight but to make mixtures of poisons and still being as quiet as only a hobbit can be

Bilbo’s father was a warrior and had to go on a mission but he knew that the enemy had information and that by just “kiling them off” the information would be lost. Having trained his son for many years and knowing that bilbo can be completely silent and probably deadly if desired he decides to take bilbo with him, bilbos mission is to knock someone out with a throwing knife to the shoulder which is covered in narcotics

Bilbo does an excellent job and his father is impressed and is like “i know you’ve never seen anything like this, youve never killed we only trained but i think you would be ready to fight by my side after we got our information out of this dude”

And Bilbo is both really good at fighting and at getting information out of the dude (I imagine him using some non toxic but pain bringing mixtures)

Bilbo and his father return home safely and Bilbo finds himself both guilty and thrilled bc he just killed like A TON of people with his father but at the same time it was exciting and he has this itch in his fingertips to do it again

After some years both of his parents die and not being able to stay in the Shire due to the memories bilbo travels through middle earth, hides his identity and then he hears someone in a pub talking about “killing someone for the better and how he would give a ton of gold to the person who could take out his target” and bilbo is like “oh” and goes out, satisfies the itch in his fingers, kills the person and demands his gold

The news spread like fire and everytime rumors come up about someone that should be killed for a good purpose bilbo will investigate, see if the person should really be killed, and if so will take the person out and demand his gold

Back to present events Thorin is like “do you think this is funny, hobbit? do you think the legacy of my kin is something you are allowed to laugh about? what do we need a hobbit for anyway?”

And Bilbo just pats his shoulder takes the contract that Gandalf held in his hands without saying anything and starts reading it

after he is done everyone looks at him not sure if they should be impressed or unnerved by this hobbit who seems to think so highly of himself that he can disrespect the king

but before anyone could say anything bilbo has signed the contract while looking at thorin from under the curls that covers his eyes giving him a smug smile and you just see that thorin is “this” close to snapping

Bilbo asks when they depart and gandalf says that they will leave by break of day

Thorin considers leaving earlier so they dont have to take the hobbit with them but doesnt say anything

Next day the dwarfs expect bilbo to have a ton of bags with him and that he would be in disadvantageous robes for traveling and they could laugh about him

But the sight they are greeted with is just? (I actually have some concepts in my head for Bilbos outfit but i dont rly know if anyone wants to see them BUT)

Bilbo is wearing of course no shoes but he is wearing long trousers with leather armor around his shins and knees, flexible but still protecting him; he wears a thin chainmail and over that a normal shirt, his arms are protected by thin leather which still looks resilient; a dark cloak which is secured with a clip around his neck; starting by his collar bones down to his navel in a “v” shape are all in all 12 throwing knives attatched in holsters and a sickle sword hangs at each of his sides; his hair which reaches his shoulders is tied up in a simple bun and in front of his face there is a short veil so that only his lips are visible; sewn onto his belt he has like 20 little bottles with different mixtures and poisons and he carries one simple backpack

and the dwarfs are like??? armor??? which looks??? high quality??? weapons??? on this hobbit??????

and they turn to gandalf and gandalf just tries to suppress a laugh at the surprised faces bc he just knew that out of sulkiness bilbo would not even try to hide any of his weapons but present them to the dwarfs

and like this basically the movie verse story would be retold

and it would be a bagginshield fic - oh my god it would be a bagginshield fic

#the hobbit #bilbo baggins #my stuff

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mithrilhearts · 3 years

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For the commentary thing! That reunion scene at the end of your latest chapter of May Your Forge Burn Bright 💖 I'm still living for that

May Your Forge Burn Bright - Chapter 9 The Reunion, you got it!

Commentary & scene under the cut - spoilers ahead

It was easier to walk with the wind than against it, but regardless of how fast Bilbo’s feet carried him, he was no match for a thunderstorm. Between the bone-shaking rumbles overhead and the blinding rain, it would be a miracle to make it halfway back to Ered Luin without crumbling or being swept away by the wind itself.

Wiping his sleeve against his eyes to try and get some of the water out of them, Bilbo wasn’t sure whether it was rainwater or tears that he was swiping away, but he certainly looked like a picture of perfect misery, and felt like one too! Soaked to the bone, stuck in a terrifying situation with no shelter, but there was a determined streak about him. Regardless of what he was putting up with now, he had all intentions to fix things with Thorin. If that meant they never completed their hillside conversation, then so be it. So long as the dwarf was in his life, then that was what mattered.

Another strike of lightning, that was far too close, hit one of the trees overhead, causing the tree to split down the trunk and for a good chunk of branches to start falling in Bilbo’s general direction. Not that he could hear or see it thanks to the sounds of the storm.

With his eyes screwed closed so tightly and keeping a sleeve over his face to protect himself from the rain, Bilbo didn’t see the oncoming form that got a firm grip on the front of his waistcoat and yanked him forward several paces and out of the way with a mighty yelp. It almost felt as if a wild animal had gotten a hold of him and Bilbo immediately tried to scramble, but the loud sound of part of a tree hitting the ground behind him had him prying open his eyes. Not to mention, he had been enveloped into a grip he was only vaguely familiar with.

Me, thinking to myself, how can I really make Bilbo M I S E R A B L E? Throw him into a storm, because we all know by now that he hates the damn things. This is probably his worst nightmare. YES, GOOD. I know, I know, I'm a monster. I've been told this a time or two.

Me, who doesn't watch romantic movies or read romance novels, etc. What's the best way to set up a reunion? See above. Put Bilbo in a terrifying situation and let him get saved at the last second. First I was thinking of like, maybe a wolf or orc attack, but if you've read Dragonhearted, Thorin already got to save Bilbo from wargs.

This whole damn scene was made up on the fly and I'm insanely proud of it. Moving on.

Hazel eyes tried to fight against the rain, but the water stopped for just a moment as a coat was being held over his head to block some of the weather, and it allowed Bilbo to look at what could have been his end. Being crushed under the force of falling branches...and yet…? “Thorin!” How? Why? Did Bilbo actually get knocked around so hard that he was stuck in a dream?

No, dreams didn’t feel that warm.

“You’re a foolish creature and should know better than to storm off by yourself!” Thorin scolded over the howling of the wind, a scowl to his face as he looked just as Bilbo remembered whenever these moods struck the dwarf. Unpleasant. “You could have been killed, I promised to keep you safe…” And Thorin would not let that promise fall through.

“You came for me…” Bilbo murmured, though unable to be heard over the sounds of rain and wind. Thorin’s coat might have acted as a decent enough shield against the actual rainwater, but it was nothing for the sounds. “I was on my way back! I needed to apologize for what I said, and I’m not sure how else I can express that. From the bottom of my heart, I am so sorry-”

“Maralmizu, Bilbo."

Bilbo’s ears twitched before dropping. Now was not the time for secrecy, they could play that game once they were out of this vicious weather. Not to mention, Bilbo had been trying to give a heartfelt apology. An annoyed huff came from the hobbit as he continued to stare at Thorin, caring less and less about thunder and lightning as the seconds ticked by. “What does that even mean, Thorin?” Though asking a dwarf to reveal their secrets was like trying to move a mountain with your bare hands.

“I love you,” Thorin was far gentler this time than the scolding he had started with, staring at Bilbo’s wide hazel eyes. “And I have for some time now and just...too afraid to say it. Too afraid that being me might scare you off, and it did...but I-”

“Oh, you really are a stupid dwarf!” That bold Tookish behavior was finding its way to the surface once more, no longer hiding in fear from a few unsavory blokes from Bree. Wrapping his hands around both of Thorin’s braids and standing on his toes, it didn’t take much guidance from Bilbo’s small tug for their lips to meet with eyes fluttering closed.

It felt like a missing piece had finally been slotted into place.

FINALLY. I'm so glad this hurdle has been addressed. Even I was getting like...okay boys, it's time to be honest here, have that talk, give the ol' smoochy smooch and let's move on! I wanted it to be something I hadn't read before, and maybe it's a little cliche with hollywood but hey, rain kisses are cute, aren't they?! Let them kiss - THORIN USING HIS WORDS. Look, I don't wanna sound cocky or complacent, but this scene had even me melting into a puddle of goo.

It's always nice when the writer loves their work, right???

I needed a memorable scene. Bilbo's afraid of storms, his life gets saved, and rain kiss. All perfect things for a perfect scene and it is one of my finer moments. Sometimes all it takes is a terrifying push to get someone to take that step. We got the kiss that I denied everyone in a few chapters previously, though let's be real, the fireflies would have been much better than lightning and rain water.

All that mutual pining and worrying about baggage and burdens was for nothing. It was irrelevant and could be tossed down the mountainside. Thorin wasn’t sure when the last time he had felt so light was. Was this what tossing your cares aside felt like?

Still keeping one arm up with the side of his coat as a shield from a good portion of the rain, Thorin’s other hand carefully cupped just below Bilbo’s jaw, rubbing a thumb across the small and barely visible cleft of that smooth chin.

Bilbo was the first to pull back, and found his cheeks aflame with Thorin inching forward as if to chase those lips before their eyes locked again. “As romantic as a kiss in the rain is…can we please go home?”

Was it too sappy to declare that a location didn’t make a home, but a person did?

“You’re my home,” Apparently not sappy enough for Thorin to spill the words. Funny how one small gesture removed an entire emotional blockade that he had been trying to keep up all this time.

Bilbo hummed slightly in delight at the words, giving a firm nod in agreement. “You’re my home too.” Dropping back to his normal height instead of being raised on his toes, Bilbo moved to lace his hand with Thorin��s free one. “Let’s get out of this storm then. I’d rather not catch a cold in all of this.”

Thorin couldn’t help but chuckle a bit at the idea of being sick. “Alright, but only because I’m not sure how susceptible hobbits are to colds. We dwarves are made of sterner stuff.”

Somehow, Bilbo didn’t quite believe that.

THE THEME OF THE STORY HAS HIT.

Home is where the heart is - it's one of my favorite themes to follow, or messages to send. Home isn't a place, it's the people you surround yourself with that make you the happiest. Whether that's family, a significant other, your best friends, that's what makes home. For these two, home has never been 'The Shire' or 'Ered Luin' or whatever places they've rested their head. I'm glad they both finally see that, and it's a message I like to put in a fair amount of my pieces, alongside some others.

And of course, another consistency that I love bringing into my pieces, Made of Sterner Stuff - based off of a one shot I did early on when posting my fics. Sick Thorin? Yes please. Plus, it's very fun to make fun of as he most certainly is not made of sterner stuff. Bilbo being the realistic one though and urging them to get out of the storm even thought it's "romantic and rainy"? That would be me.

This is nice and all, but...how about no?

As I said before, I wanted a scene you could picture, and one that would be remembered. Something that lived up to the epic expectations of Bagginshield and them finally spitting out the words we've been cheering them on to say. It might not be FIREFLIES and NORTHERN LIGHTS, but I sure as heck and happy with it and enjoy rereading it.

#razzy does commentary #galadithtir #fic: may your forge burn bright

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helisol · 5 years

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ye s, well

it basically came to me like a prophet receiving a vision from an angry god. you know. like brian david gilberts video ideas but with more slow burn.

no really i wrote all this down in my phone’s note app because some nearly coherent things popped up in my head every time i was on the train or bus these last few days.

(after-actually-writing-this disclaimer/note: this is 2000 words of slightly edited rambling about Bagginshield in the Afterlife. i had to put it in a read more.)

so the gist of it

the botfa goes just as in the movie with minor details altered. like bilbo kissing thorin just before he dies which inadvertently causes a ripple in time and space that makes the valar curious of them both. you know. minor stuff.

so bilbo goes back to the shire, the war of the ring goes down, and the hobbit/elf gang sails to valinor at the end. classic stuff, not much alternating of universes here.

but here’s where things turn into the “my city now” meme because DUDE DO I HAVE A LOT OF THOUGHTS ABOUT VALINOR AND HOW THE AFTERLIFE WORKS

like, I’m sorry mister jolkien rolkien tolkien, but just putting people into a hall to await being judged like a hospital waiting room? snooze, that’s boring!

so first of all, and you can fight me on this, Yavanna Made The Hobbits And You Can’t Change My Mind.

it just makes sense for her to have been very saddened by the destruction of literally all her work on arda through melkor’s poison, so she made living, growing things that could protect themselves from harm. as opposed to the ents, by the way, which were made by Eru to protect all the other living, growing things. it was a nice gesture of Eru to make those, but not quite what Yavanna wanted or had in mind, i imagine.

as with the dwarves, Eru wasn’t all happy about the existence of another race he didn’t make but you know, whatever, ‘I’ll just let this married couple have their own kids aside from mine, it’s okay’.

so he hands both the dwarves and the hobbits independent thought and free will, but under the condition (and here is where the afterlife stuff comes into play) that Aule and Yavanna be responsible for their mortal creations after their death. meaning that both races have seperate afterlives from the halls of mandos, MEANING THAT ITS COMPLETELY FINE FOR AULE AND YAVANNA TO BE LIKE “oh look honey, these two are so very in love and remind me of us, shan’t we do something about that?”

so. they do something about that. more precisely, they rearrange their afterlife-realms so they’re next to each other and someone with enough willpower could cross through the barrier. because listen, they’re valar, they can do whatever they want just for kicks.

okay so after that tangent lets get back to the meat of the matter: gay dwarves. I know not everyone has read Sansukh, a 500k word mammoth of a fic, and I don’t really intend to copy any of det’s canon, but their version of The Halls of Mahal really inspired me. basically the dwarven afterlife is one big hunk of a mountain/underground city where they’re free to live their days until dagor dagorath doing what they do best in the company of their families and friends; like smithing, crafting, building and other JustDwarrowThings.

meanwhile the hobbit afterlife is Basically The Shire and instead of being given the materials to build things, all the hobbits who go there get to grow plants and do their gardening. they don’t have to- just like none of the dwarves have to craft stuff- since there’s always enough food for everyone, but they are just allowed to do what they do best if they so desire.

now when Bilbo arrived in the undying lands he was still Old As Hell and im sorry to put it this way, he definitely kicked the can after like, a week of living there. not really so undying, them lands, huh. anyway Bilbo bites the dust and LOOK AT THAT he’s suddenly young again, and another LOOK AT THAT he’s standing in a very comfy, but Not Quite Bag End hobbit hole that has a note hung up on the front door. you wouldn’t think gods could have handwriting but hey, again, they’re gods they can do whatever. the note just tells him that yavannah made this place special and just for Bilbo but that there’s another home waiting for him. very cryptic there, lady. he doesn’t leave at first because hey, his family is here. there’s a lot of reunions and celebrating and food because its the fucking hobbit afterlife, what else would you expect

it takes him a few days of Regular Hobbit Life in his new home to realise ‘holy shit, this is so boring’ so what does a Fool of a Took do when things get boring and there’s a note urging him to do something?

HE’S GOING ON AN ADVENTURE

so Bilbo runs through the whole not-shire, meeting all sorts of people he outlived on the way (looking at you, Lobelia), as well as some elves. because elves can definitely just waltz through all the afterlives. they can walk on top of snow, you think they wouldn’t walk around wherever they please in valinor? rip to mankind, but they’re different.

he gets to the furthest reaches of it eventually, and lo and behold, what awaits him but the view of a tall mountain, an invisible barrier and a very flustered Thorin who is at his wits end as to how Bilbo even got here.

now for thorin’s part of the story we’ll have to start after the botfa again. he basically woke up in the darkness like an episode of naked and afraid, and started talking to Aule. his maker, who loves him to bits by the way since he made thorin, just tells him he’s free to go wherever his heart takes him. again with the cryptic messages from the gods.

so thorin, still very self-loathing and bitter because of his actions right before his death, sees this as Mahal’s way of saying ‘please don’t step foot in my halls u disgusting litle creacher’, when really he just meant ‘please do some well deserved self reflecting and then come inside to be with your family, they all miss you terribly’.

after his chat with the maker thorin just spawns in right at the front gate of the mountain and he has a choice to make. go inside or stay outside. and we all know Thorin’s proclivity for drama so he basically spends LITERAL YEARS just living in self imposed solitary confinement.

oh also tiny hc here, thorin was said to have taken “any work offered to him in the towns of men”, and they showed him in a smithy, but personally I believe they meant it when they said “any kind of work”. so basically thorin is a jack of all trades, master of some. he definitely has master-level skills in certain areas though, enough to build a vaguely hobbit-hole shaped house. why is it hobbit hole shaped?

oh right, the part where Thorin is absolutely enamoured with Bilbo.

"Go back to your books and your armchair, plant your trees, watch them grow. If more of us valued food and cheer and song above hoarded gold, it would be a merrier world.”- HELLO? GAY POLICE? I’D LIKE TO REPORT A CASE OF ‘DWARF KING REALISING THAT THE HOBBIT WAY OF LIVING IS A REALLY GREAT ONE IN CONCEPT / WISHING HE COULD HAVE HAD THAT KIND OF LIFE WITH BILBO’

anyway it’s a long 80 years until Thorin does get to meet Bilbo again, and in the meantime we have one of my favorite additions to any Hobbit fanfic ever: Frerin

For the uninitiated, Frerin is Thorin’s brother. They also have a sister, Dís, but Tolkien never specified when she died and she was a bit younger than Thorin and Frerin so I reckon she’d still be alive as an old dwarf lady somewhere?

Anyway, Frerin. Oh boy. Sansukh, again, does an excellent job at turning Frerin into a character with a level of authenticity that gets real fucking close to Genuine Tolkien™, so most of my own characterisation of Frerin is based on that in Sansukh. With the important omission of the dwarves not being able to see the present/their still alive loved ones in middle earth through a magic mirror pool.

so Frerin takes it upon himself to leave the mountain in search of his brother because he really does want him back. but also because Mahal has had it with Thorin’s antics and suggests Frerin fetch him so he can finally reunite with his family. Mahal doesn’t talk to the dwarves a lot because he’s like an awkward and distant dad, but he does actually speak to them.

so Thorin is supposed to go see his family, which he does, but not immediately. it takes like, a solid year of just brotherly (and sister-sonly) companionship for him to open up about all his anxieties and regrets and THEN he goes into the mountain to cry in his mother’s lap. as you do.

however Thorin still feels like he doesn’t 100% belong with the other dwarves in there, so he frequently spends long stretches of time outside, building away at his house, thinking about Bilbo. the company goes out to visit him sometimes.

more details on the house tho, cuz it’s Important; it’s built halfway into a hill near the mountain, like a proper hobbit hole would be, but the lower levels are built into stone. look, he’s had 80 years to work on constructing this. it’s near perfect in every way for both hobbit and dwarf standards and could definitely fit the entire company and more inside.

now about the barrier. elves can pass through without a second thought because they’re shiny little bastards who just get to do all the cool stuff, but the other races can’t just hop between realms like that; they really have to muster up the willpower. which usually means they can’t do it because a drawback for both dwarves and hobbits is that they favor isolation from other races even in death, and as such don’t want to mingle with each other.

unless you’re Bilbo Badass Baggins though, who simply runs through the barrier to yell at Thorin for leaving him sad and alone for 80 years. he is that bitch.

there’s gonna be some legolas and gimli shenanigans if i can fit them in (cuz i dont know when exactly they sailed west together), possibly a mention of tauriel because bruh peter jackson did us dirty by not giving her any closure besides ‘lol i guess she’s banished from mirkwood??’ and Mairon. because. I also have some thoughts about him.

also Fili and Kili as pseudo matchmakers because every fic needs that

and did I mention there’s gonna be hozier lyrics for chapter titles

i said this was the gist of it but i somehow ended up at ~1900 words. well, more power to me.

#bagginshield #the hobbit #bagginshield afterlife au #this is the most coherent plot summary I've ever done for a fic so please enjoy the trash #also it's my sleepover and I get to pick which parts of canon i'll adhere by

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fargreencountryswiftsunrise · 5 years

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Sit Your Butts Down. We’re Talking About How I Changed My Opinion on Reylo.

TL;DR: Stop attacking people’s ships and just let it be. You’re worse than The Star Wars Holiday Special.

Introduction

So, it is a fact well-known that I have been an anti of this ship until pretty recently. More of it gentle jokes about Crylo Ren being Jabba the Hutt, but I couldn’t really get the ship due to personal issues.

And I love redemption ships. Folks, I’m a member of Loki’s Army. I ship Jareth/Sarah (where Sarah is an adult, because otherwise illegal and squick). I even make Bagginshield go through a long arc of becoming friends and getting mental health help. Ask my readers. It takes at least 100,000 words before anyone snogs.

But oye. Reylos reminded me why I never went beyond the surface level of the Star Wars fandom. The ship wars in Star Wars are mean.

Timeline:

The Force Awakens

“Oh, great, another privileged white boy has a sob story and doesn’t have to do any WORK at getting redemption.” I was just... done with it. And I’m saying this as a member of Loki’s Army. (Reminder that Loki went through how many films and torture before he was an even remotely decent human being?)

I just... Adam Driver was great, but he wasn’t given the best material to work with. A lot of his sob story was obviously either being saved for later or done out of the main movies AKA lazy writing again Jar Jar Abrams.

Add to that growing up with the EU. The EU wasn’t great, but it had some fun moments. There was a Kylo Ren-esque plot that was covered, but also there were characters from the original trilogy that survived as well as some of their children. Yet here I was dealing with Disney completely ignoring this for a single story that was clumsily put together. I mean, “why ship Reylo when you can ship The original trilogy characters x actually getting happy endings instead of having their life’s work fail and then dying.”

I knew what was coming down in Episode IX. I knew that the only way this was going to end was with Kylo Ren dying. It was just cruel and yet it felt like Reylos were tap dancing over a cliff and mocking non-Reylos while doing it. (They mostly weren’t, but it felt like it from the posts constantly smacking me when I left the safety of the blogs I already followed.)

And then the fandom postings. Just, no self-awareness about how deeply disturbing it is to see morality being shoved as a woman’s job once again. It’s not Rey’s job to redeem Kylo.

The icing on the cake was that all of the Reylo stuff coming across my dash was abusive relationships being celebrated as “healthy” or just down right depressing.

The Last Jedi

Oye. This is when I knew the series was not a priority with Disney and creators within the Star Wars universe were fighting a losing battle.

I started to understand the appeal of Reylos, but it was still mostly abuse-apologists, dark with no happy ending, and not enough punching fascists. But I got the desire for redemption. I got that Adam Driver and Daisy Ridley were doing a great job on iffy-material. Live and let live.

I also realized part of my Reylo hate was because Kylo Ren killed half of the first ship I ever shipped. Han/Leia is one of my favorite ships of all time and I knew they were going to kill Han, but it still hurt.

The Rise of Skywalker

Overall, I was okay with the film because I had been preparing myself for four years for the death of Kylo Ren. I had been guessing Palpatine was making a come back since, you know, I grew up with the EU. (The films prepared poorly and I will lay good money no one was actually planning ahead even on an individual movie level.)

I wasn’t expecting Ben Solo to shrug like his dad and steal my heart.

Ben Solo is a good boy in an excellent good boy sweater and must be protected.

The more I thought about how all of the characters in the sequel trilogy were treated, the madder I got.

I started going through the Star Wars tags for the first time in years and then... it happened.

Reylos discovered the absurdity of shipping fictional characters, developed a sense of humor, and even wrote healthy relationships.

I was shocked and delighted. Do some Reylo stories make me cringe? Yeah, but that is true even of my most beloved ships.

In Conclusion

And let shippers do their thing. Just block the Reylo tag you jerks. Stop going after the babies in fandom or I will make you wish you were watching The Star Wars Holiday Special.

#Reylo #kylo ren #ben solo #Ben Solo #Rey #Star Wars #The Force Awakens #Star Wars Episode VII The Force Awakens #Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens #The Last Jedi #Star Wars Episode VIII The Last Jedi #Star Wars Episode VIII: The Last Jedi #The Rise of Skywalker #Star Wars Episode IX The Rise of Skywalker #Star Wars Episode IX: The Rise of Skywalker #ship #ships #shipping

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koalas-koalas-everywhere · 5 years

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Live blogging the Hobbit pt.7

Flies And Spiders

I’ve been looking forward to this one.

“There were black squirrels in the wood. As Bilbo’s sharp inquisitive eyes got used to seeing things he could catch glimpses of them whisking off the path and scuttling behinf tree-trunks.” I should write a fic about this myself, but I think it would be a funny scene to have Bilbo, with his sharper eyesight, mention the squirrels and the dwarves just. Have absolutely no idea what he’s talking about? What squirrels?? Bilbo: … the squirrels. Dwarves: wut. B:The squirrels that run around every once in a while. And him trying to point them out but being unable to because of their speed and their black colour. Eventually, after they’ve been in the woods a while, becoming irritable and kinda muddled and just really freaked out, Bilbo snaps and out of nowhere throws a rock at one of them, only stunning it, but effectively bringing it down. The dwarves are all like, Bilbo wtf, both because it was very sudden and because they didn’t know he had that good of an aim, but he just goes “you see it? you see it? oh thank heavens I was starting to think I was going crazy and just imagining it.” That’s when they decide to try to shoot them and eat them and when they realise… well, I’ll keep it for that bulletpoint.

“Even the dwarves felt it, who were used to tunneling, and lived at times for long whiles without the light of the sun; but the hobbit, who liked holes to make a house in but not to spend summer days in, felt that he was being slowly suffocated.”

Lmao why does he always get the worst of it? Tolkien, I’ll see you in hell.

“They tried shooting the squirrels, and they wasted many arrows before they managed to bring one down on the path. But when they roasted it, it proved horrible to taste, and they shot no more squirrels.”

Here it is, back to the story, they hunt the squirrels, realise they’re gross, and are like, “Bilbo, you’re the most weirdly skillful yet useless person we’ve ever met.”

‘Dori is the strongest, but Fili is the youngest and still has the best sight.” Fili is the what

“All the time he was wondering whether there were spiders in the tree, and how he was going to get down again (except by falling).”

why not

“They did not care tuppence about the butterflies, and ere only made more angry when he told them of the beautiful breeze, which they were too heavy to climb up and feel.” It is kind of tacky, Bilbo

Double fuck, my bookmark fell off and the spine got cracked. This has literally never happened to me before D:<

In theory, leaving a mark that something’s been used and loved is a concept I like. In practice? This is bothering me.

“That night they ate the last scraps and crumbs of food; and next morning when they woke the first thing they noticed was that they were still gnawingly hungry, and the nest thing was that it was raining and that here and there the drip of it was dropping heavily on the forest floor.” I mean, they’ve eaten the last of the food and they’re still hungry — chances are that even if they’d known they were almost out of the woods, they wouldn’t have made it anyway. (So certain authors can stow it.)

“There were many people there, elvish-looking folk, all dressed in green and brown and sitting on sawn rings of the felled trees in a great circle.” Why elvish-looking and not just elves?

“They were lost in a completely lightless dark and they could not even find one another, not for a long time at any rate. After blundering frantically in the gloom, falling over logs, bumping crash into trees, and shouting and calling till they must have waked everything in the forest for miles, at last they managed to gather themselves in a bundle and count themselves by touch.” First off, I want to serve this as an example of and proof that Tolkien, while not going quite so low as to make scatological and fart jokes, used plenty of slapstick comedy. Second, oh my god you guys, that is not the way to find each other in the dark!

“Thorin said: ‘No rushing forward this time! No one is to stir from hiding till I say. I shall send Mr. Baggins alone first to talk to them. They won’t be frightened of him--(‘What about me of them?’ thought Bilbo)-- and any way I hope they won’t do anything nasty to him.’” All praise the fearless and generous leader!

It reminds me of a fanfic I really like, still in progress, where the fanon dynamic for Bagginshield (and indeed, most common tropes of romance) gets subverted by having Thorin trust and rely on Bilbo to protect him instead of being overprotective. It was started after the first movie but before the others, and I can really see it in the book. (Of course, that probably has something to do with the fact that Tolkien didn’t write it to be romantic.)

“‘They are the best I am likely to get in this beastly place,’ he mutteres, ad he lay down beside the dwarves and tried to go back to sleep and find his dream again.” Dwarf(and hobbit)pile!

“He was deep in thoughts of bacon and eggs and toast and butter when he felt something touch him. Something like a strong sticky string was against his left hand, and when he tried to move he found that his legs were already wrapped in the same stuff, so that when he got up he fell over.

Then the great spider, who had been busy tying him up while he dozed, came from behind him and came at him.” Almost executed for daydreaming about breakfast in the middle of Mirkwood at night crimes.

“He beat the creature off with his hands--it was trying to poison him to keep him quiet, as small spiders do to flies--until he remembered his sword and drew it out.”

Bilbo: *balls up fists and swings them like cartoon boxer* Let’s do this Shire style!

But also, I want to point out that it says he beat it off not tried to beat it off. That implies success.

Also, I’m kind of freaked out at the implication that that’s a small spider.

“Then it went mad and leaped and danced and flung out its legs in horrible jerks, until he killed it with another stroke; and then he fell down and remembered nothing more for a long while.

There was the usual dim grey light of the forest-day about him when he came to his senses.” Fair.

“Bilbo was a pretty fair shot with a stone, and it did not take him long to find a nice smooth egg-shaped one that fitted his hand cosily. As a boy he used to practise throwing stones at things, until rabbits and squirrels, and even birds, got out of his was as quick as lightning if they saw him stoop; and even grow--up he had still spent a deal of his time at quoits, dart-throwing, shooting at the wand, bowls, ninepins and other quiet games of the aiming and throwing sort--indeed he could do lots of things, besides blowing smoke-rings, asking riddles and cooking, that I haven’t had time to tell you about. There is no time now.” There are so many levels of hilarity here, like

1- Bilbo used to be a fucking menace. And he didn’t quite get over it either!

2- They only ran away when he stooped? This just makes me think that he might have done nice things to make them at least tolerate him otherwise, instead of outright avoiding him or attacking him. Like, “ah, it’s that little boy, who’ll either feed us, he’s so nice and- uh oh he stooped, time to go boys.” Alternatively, it’s genetic memory warning them away from Bilbo. I was thinking maybe it was about all hobbits, but it does say “until they got out of his way”, meaning there was a time when they didn’t.

3- That’s such a hilariously late time in the story to introduce us to the fact that the main character has not only good aim but a strong enough arm to throw a stone right through a giant spider’s web, which would be thicker and probably more durable than the normal variety, already stronger than steel. And then kill the spider on the other side.

4- “Other quiet games of the aiming and throwing sort.” Idk man, other games of the sort, figure it out yourself.

5- I want to know about the other stuff Bilbo can do.

“This is what he sang:

Old fat spider spinning in a tree!

Old fat spider can’t see me!

Attercop! Attercop!

Won’t you stop,

Stop your spinning and look for me?

Old Tomnoddy, all big body.

Old Tomnoddy can’t spy me!

Attercop! Attercop!

Down you drop!

You’ll never catch me up your tree!

Not very good perhaps, but then you must remember that he had to make it up himself, on the spur of a very awkward moment.” Tolkien, shut up, it’s beautiful.

Also, lol, about to be eaten by spiders, how awks.

“Standing now in the middle of the hunting and spinning insects Bilbo plucked up his courage and began a new song.” Bilbo: If I’m gonna die, it’s gonna be as annoyingly as possible.

Honestly, though, this is my favourite song in the book.

“Bilbo’s next job was to loose a dwarf.” Very different from losing a dwarf, which he’s already done x14 (Thorin counts twice, especially considering he hasn’t even realized he’s lost him yet).

“Suddenly Bilbo noticed that some of the spiders had gathered round old Bombur on the floor, and had tied him up again and were dragging him away. He gave a shout and slashed at the spiders in front of him. They quickly gave way, and he scrambled and fell down the tree right into the middle of those on the ground. His little sword was something new in the way of stings for them. How it darted to and fro! It shone with delight as he stabbed at them. Half a dozen were killed before the rest drew off and left Bombur to Bilbo.” Bilbo’s gone berserk.

Also, Sting shone with delight? What a bloodthirsty blade.

“Away behind them now the shouting and singing suddenly stopped.” DUN DUN DUUUUUN

“Things were looking pretty bad again, when suddenly Bilbo reappeared, and charged into the astonished spiders unexpectedly from the side.

‘Go on! Go on!” he shouted. “I will do the stinging!”

And he did. He darted backwards and forwards, slashing at spider-threads, hacking at their legs, and stabbing at their fat bodies if they came too near. The spiders swelled with rage, and spluttered and frothed, and hissed out horrible curses; but they had become mortally afraid of Sting, and dared not come very near, now that it had come back. So curse as they would, their prey moved slowly but steadily away. It was a most terrible business, and seemed to take hours.” Love this part. All very heroic.

“They knew only too well that they would soon all have been dead if it had not been for the hobbit; and they thanked him many times. Some of them even got up and bowed right to the ground before him, though they fell over with the effort, and could not get on their legs again for some time.” I can imagine Bilbo all flustered, going “good. Hope you’ve learned your lesson and won’t be doing that again. Limit yourself to fawning.”

“All of a sudden Dwalin opened an eye, and looked round at them. ‘Where is Thorin?’ he asked.”Lmao, finally!

“They differed from the High Elves of the West, and were more dangerous and less wise.” Feral.

“All this was well known to every dwarf, though Thorin’s family had had nothing to do with the old quarrel I have spoken of. Consequently Thorin was angry at their treatment of him, when they took their spell off and he came to his senses.” Another change done for the movie: Thorin’s family wasn’t involved in the feud.

Also lmao this weapon, a prisoner and all “how dare you”.

I’m not going to talk about the conversation between Thorin and Thranduil bc it’s probably been done to death.

Definitely my favourite chapter this far. Main character’s skills and learned courage begins to show? Check. He uses them in a fight that gives him extra confidence? Check. Heroics mixed with witty commentary and one-liners? Check. Team begins to see them in a new, more positive light? Check. Elves being made fun of and painted as kinda ridiculous? Check. (This one’s very subjective ig.)

#The Hobbit #liveblogging #Bilbo Baggins #Thorin Oakenshield III #dwarves #hobbits #The Company of Thorin Oakenshield #Gandalf #Elves #Mirkwood #Spiders

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a-very-fond-farewell · 6 years

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Bagginshield North & South au 1/4

Ok folks, I thought about how to make a North & South au (based on the BBC miniseries, not the actual book) without looking at any fic on the matter, because I didn’t want to be influenced by their (certainly brilliant) adaptations. So bear with me for the time being.

This is just a list of things that I would like to see in a N&S!au fic... but I have no energy to write that myself.

ATTN!1: I have changed many things, and it came out pretty angsty, with lots of pining and secrets that must be kept at all costs.

ATTN!2: I would have loved to explore the trans!Bilbo trope (either transwoman!Bilbo or transman!Bilbo), but I feel like I’m not the right person to give this idea the justice it deserves. I’m sure someone else could feel empowered in exploring that particular trope on their own, so it would be better for me not to rob them of such an opportunity.

ATTN!3: I’m just a nonbinary bean with terrible grammar and a knack for angst, also English is not my first language. I WILL ADD TO THIS.

Enjoy!

First Part:

In the mining town of Erebor, up north where the weather is crisp and the fog is as blinding as ever, the main source of income comes from the mithril veins hidden deep into the Lonely Mountain. Still fairly unknown to the masses as a viable alternative to steel for industrial products, mithril is considered to be nothing but a lower metal of very little use a part from being modeled as framing works for jewelry coming from the west.

Bilbo Baggins has followed his parents in this particular corner of the world after certain indiscretions had spread in the southern town of Bag End. At his cousin Prim’s wedding in London the previous summer, in fact, Bilbo had found himself rejecting the unwanted advances of a certain gentleman right before being discovered by his mother as the two men were parting ways from a very heated discussion in a secluded room.

In order to not let others know about such circumstances, Belladonna had shared her intention with her sister Mirabella to uproot in the north, at least until the rumors had dissipated. Bungo, as loving and trusting as ever, had simply accepted her decision and disposed for them all to move to Erebor. In doing so, he had consequently left his position as a parish in Bag End, not wavering in his faith, but merely willing to give his family what they needed to be happy.

Bilbo himself is no longer a lad: close to reach his thirties, many have speculated around the truth about his sudden return to his father’s home leaving his studies at Oxford out of the blue. Up until now, Bungo had protected his son by simply stating to the citizens of Bag End how needed Bilbo was, and Belladonna had made sure no mouths could run and shame her son in the meantime. But those days are over now, and their new town might not be as easily outsmarted this time around.

Heavy with sorrow for making his family move, Bilbo has resigned to keeping his life on check from now on, willing to sacrifice his happiness in order to keep his parents safe and healthy. Not being able to walk without a cane after his last days at Oxford, Bilbo finds himself constantly torn between revealing what had happened there and run away from all those eyes watching his every move. Luckily, in Erebor no one expects much of him, and any possible question regarding his lack of employment while he could no more benefit from being the only son of a parish is met with a simple gesture towards his bad leg. People seem complacent enough to overlook his poor excuse of a lie as long as they can speculate over his father’s decision to move up north.

Filled with guilt at the inability to defend his father against the rumors, Bilbo is reassured over and over again by his mother that they had made the right decision. The price for her understanding, however, seems to be an even greater burden for Bilbo: never speak of his true nature ever again, not even to his parents. Not even to himself.

Gandalf Gray, an old friend of Bungo’s, close enough to the family to understand the implications of their sudden uprooting, has decided to take Bilbo under his wing and show him around while his father has a chance to meet the pupils Mr. Gray has gathered for him to talk to. Having traveled all other the world, Mr. Gray is not new to the hardships Bilbo has encountered and his honesty and desire to help comforts Bilbo while he navigates the wastelands of melancholy that moving so far away has ensued.

While visiting one of the many mines belonging to the Durinson household, Bilbo finds himself shocked at the sight of its master beating one of his miners out of the mountain in a fit of rage. Little does he know what perils hide into the tunnels eroding the Lonely Mountain one inch at a time, or what are the dangers that fire and gas can bring to those working in the dark, with only the aid of candles and caged birds to save them from death.

Still, Bilbo tries to reason with said master, not knowing Thorin to be their landlord and one of his father’s pupils on top of that. Only thanks to Mr. Gray Bilbo is spared from Thorin’s anger by introducing him as a dear friend of his, but this doesn’t protect Bilbo from receiving yet another shock as the man simply turns and strides away after the worker he had just beaten up.

Meeting the man in his own home later that very same week, Bilbo is confronted with the absolute necessity from his part to embody a perfect son and the perfect guest, no matter how much he despises sharing a room with their landlord. But given the circumstances, he tries not to think about him too much while Bungo teaches Thorin all about philosophy and literature: he listens to their lessons half expecting to be invited to share his thoughts on his father’s many interpretations of the ancient sources... but eventually feeling much more at ease staying quiet by his armchair while the other two talk.

Judging from Thorin’s curiosity and will to learn, Bilbo convinces himself to have misjudged the man based on what he had seen at the mines, and later on investigates the matter further with his father and with Mr. Gray over a cup of tea. Apparently, after the sudden death of both of his parents when he was just a child, Thorin, his brother Frerin and their older sister Dis had been entrusted to the care of their grandfather, Thror: a man driven mad by his lust for gold to the point he had closed the mines twenty years before just to barricade himself inside the mountain in search of a vein of gold that never existed. Thorin’s little brother Frerin, small enough to wiggle his way in between the wooden bars Thror had used to close the openings, had looked for his grandfather anywhere before the main tunnel had collapsed on both of them one cold night of December.

Horrified by such a discovery, Bilbo has already spent many a day trying to find the courage to apologize to Thorin by the time he meets Bain, Sigrid and Tilda. The boy and his younger sister approaches him one day at the park, reminiscing of the way he had confronted Thorin at the entrance of the mine, where Bain works as well, while their older sister seems a little wary of Bilbo and apologizes to him for disturbing him so suddenly. On the other hand, Bilbo is overjoyed to have been met with such enthusiasm after weeks of isolation from actual social interaction and offers the siblings to walk them home... just as their father Bard comes into the picture, assuring Bilbo his services are not needed.

Intrigued by that little family, Bilbo tries to know more about them by lurking around the wooden houses destined to the miners skirting the suburban area at the bottom of the mountain, determined to pay them a visit with a basket of food to thank the kids for their kindness to him. Here, Bilbo gets to know the families of many of the miners, all relatively close to each other be it for family ties or friendship alone, that -surprisingly enough- seem more than happy to teach him a thing or two on how to survive the likes of Erebor and its masters.

From them comes the realization of how exactly Thror had compromised the economy of the city when he had closed the mines twenty years before. Many of the workers had found themselves jobless that year and, after the main tunnel had been deemed too dangerous to cross, new masters had come to the city and made their way with new holes into the mountain with no regards for safety. So many holes, indeed, that some workers avoided entering the Lonely Mountain for fear it could fall onto itself at any moment.

In all this, Thorin had been only sixteen and had to provide for his family now that his only guardian had perished in the depths of the main tunnel along with his little brother. Dis had been twenty then, and married a man coming from one of the richest families in town, who had provided for her and for their two sons up until his death, fifteen years before. Thorin, who had been fired to leave his studies in order to gain back his family’s honor by working for other masters, at twenty-one had made enough of a name for himself to be able to care for his older sister and nephews once more, as the customs required.

Dis, on the other hand, after losing her parents, grandfather, brother and husband, had accepted to go back home to her younger brother feeling like a caged animal, but not ungrateful enough to disregard the importance of the mines that brought them stability and wealth. Thorin, on the other hand, getting sterner by the year and low in spirits because of his newfound role as the head of their household, had become extremely protective of his family... just as much as Dis herself, the both of them manifesting some of the traits their own grandfather had shown by the time his obsession had piqued.

Even Bard and his kids had been willing to share some information with him by the time Bilbo discovers exactly how far the Durinson’s had prevented the growth of the town by limiting the number of caves under their watch. Bard himself seems set on hating the siblings for life, convinced the mountain could offer work to everybody without restrictions if only the Durinson’s were to let more people inside. He insists that gold lies under that mountain and that not even the Durinson’s should claim that vein for themselves while other masters have promised a job for everyone in town were the Durinson household to perish.

Struck by all those new revelations, one day Bilbo finds himself too overwhelmed to properly welcome Dis Durinson and her sons inside their home while his mother gets dressed upstairs. The woman strikes an imposing figure, just like her brother, dressed in all black with sober, yet quite beautiful blue earrings bringing out the coldness of her light-blue eyes. The oldest of her sons, affectionately called Kili by her, is roughly eighteen or nineteen years old and seems agreeable enough, asking Bilbo what wonders he has seen in London and what the south has to offer: curiosity getting the best of him contrary to his mother’s best judgment. Fili, instead, looks more lost than anything, not young enough to depend on his mother approval, but still not quite old enough to rebel against her composure and regal attitude.

Then, just as his mother welcomes them in her house, Bilbo notices how Belladonna has lost weight and how skirmish she looks. Being so distracted himself by his quest for knowledge in regards of Erebor and its history, Bilbo has completely overlooked him mother’s conditions and guilt overcomes him once more. Knowing that people were still talking about them because of the insinuations about his father’s decision to leave the Church, Bilbo is faced with shame and anxiety just by thinking how hard it must be for his parents to endure all of that pressure from the telltale coming from the upper society in town.

As he looks at Thorin’s sister and her impenetrable mask, he wonders how she must have felt when she had been married off to a rich man in order to save the family from disgrace. Because that is what the Baggins’ and the Durinson’s have been foreclosed to address, even if I’m different ways: disgrace. Profound and nasty disgrace.

Bilbo finds himself jealous of their luck in regaining control over their fate by hard work alone, but doesn’t voice his feelings as the woman and her sons leave. Nor does he want to speak of the matter with Thorin... until he does, while listening to his and Bungo’s usual lesson one day: feeling left out of the conversation, fed up with the way his family walks on eggshells around him, and impossibly frustrated with himself for not being able to seize Thorin’s character in his head, Bilbo accuses the man of being too full of himself to even care about the struggling miners, ready to strike in order to be allowed to look for gold in the mountain.

Immediately regretting what he has just said, already missing the opportunity to listen to Thorin’s deep voice asking intelligent questions, knowing how the man has been desperate to educate himself now that he had the opportunity to do so...Bilbo can only watch as Thorin greets him coldly and leave their house. Possibly to never return.

#bagginshield #the hobbit #n&s!au

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theepolynesian · 7 years

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Troubles of the Heart

Overall Summary: It’s been five years since the battle of the five armies. The two once deserted cities were now in full bloom calling for a celebration of great proportions. Although your father was happy, you could tell he was not completely happy. Could you bring a certain hobbit and king together or will it go up in flames? What about your own heart?

Chapter Summary: Someone finally makes a move.

Pairings: Bagginshield

Previous Chapter: Chapter 6

Next Chapter: Chapter 8

“Thorin?”

Needing to calm down, he made his way to the ramparts. The cool breeze calmed his temper somewhat but not all of it. He was not expecting a guest, however.

He turns and finds Bilbo, making his heart stutter.

“Bilbo. Are you not enjoying the celebration? Surely this cannot be a better place to be what with all the memories that we have last we were here together,” Thorin says, cringing as the memory of almost throwing Bilbo off the ramparts pops into his mind.

He feels a hand clasp his and he looks down at it before looking at Bilbo.

“I have forgiven you Thorin. Do not think that I haven’t,” Bilbo says, giving Thorin a reassuring smile.

Thorin smiles back before turning to look at the field below.

“I am surprised Frodo is not with you,” Thorin observes.

“He has grown quite fond of your nephews. Besides, I didn’t think he needed to be present for this,” Bilbo says, pushing his back against the wall and looking Thorin, “she was just trying to help, Thorin.”

Thorin sighs, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath.

“I know. I know but she shouldn’t have done that for me. I am the one that should be taking care of her. Not the other way around.”

Bilbo reaches over to turn Thorin’s face towards him, making Thorin’s breath hitch.

“Let people in, Thorin. Let them help you. You are holding such a burden on your shoulders. Let others help you,” Bilbo whispers.

Thorin’s eyes flicker across Bilbo’s face before the focus on his lips. He slowly inches forward to give Bilbo time to back away if he wanted. When Bilbo does not back away, he closes his eyes, savoring the moment his lips touch Bilbo’s. He’s waited five years for this and he was going to savor every second of it.

Bilbo smiles into the kiss before wrapping his arms around Thorin’s neck. Thorin’s arms wrap around his waist and they could stay there forever had there not been a cough interrupting them.

Thorin breaks away from Bilbo first before leaning his forehead on Bilbo’s for a second. He opens his eyes, pressing a kiss to Bilbo’s forehead and turning to the intruder.

“What?” He growls at his sister.

The first moment he and Bilbo had together and of course it was ruined.

“She knows, Thorin.”

And even though they were only three words, he knows exactly what it means.

You stare at the fireplace in front of you. A mistake. Unwanted and certainly not needed. A bastard. You couldn’t believe it. You always thought your father married and got into an ugly fight with your mother but that was not it.

You stand and change into a pair of trousers and a tunic. You couldn’t sit in the dress any longer. Once you get changed, you leave your chambers walking down the hall.

“Why did you have to tell her now! Of all times! It only made things worse!” You hear a voice snap and you know it’s your father so you do the only thing you could do: dip into another room.

You quietly shut the door behind you to make sure that your father won’t hear it and when the footsteps fade, you let out a sigh of relief only to let out a yelp as you hear someone clear their throat.

You turn to find Andvari looking at you with an interested look. You blush as you realize that he was only in his trousers.

“Sorry about that,” you say, turning to leave. “Wait! Hold on. You can’t find me that repulsive,” Andvari states and you turn to him.

“Did I make it seem that way?” You ask.

“Well the way you gave me the cold shoulder last night,” he says with a shrug and you sigh, taking a seat across from him.

“I didn’t mean to. I’m just very over protective. Especially when it comes to Bilbo,” you explain.

“And your father, it seems, since you did al you could to get him out of his marriage to my aunt,” he says with a raised brow making you sigh.

“If I had known she was your aunt I wouldn’t have said what I did. Also if I had known that she despised it as much as my father and was interested in dams I would’ve been kinder.”

Andvari smiles at you before turning to the fire.

“My aunt has always been a curious one but she’s one of my favorites.”

“You only have two.”

“That’s the point,” he says and you laugh at his joke causing him to smile.

“I’m kidding. I love them all equally. My father, however, is a different story.”

“Tell me about him.”

And that’s how you spend the rest of the night: you and Andvari learning about each other’s families and each other which you quite enjoyed.

In another room, a certain king was pacing frantically.

“What if she ran away?” Thorin asks, biting his thumbnail.

“She’s not that stupid Thorin,” Dis says with a roll of her eyes.

“But what if?” Thorin emphasizes and Bilbo stands, reaching out to stop Thorin from his pacing.

That calms him almost immediately and Thorin looks at Bilbo as if almost lost.

“She is fine Thorin. She probably just went to sleep somewhere else. She needs time,” Bilbo explains and Thorin looks at him for a second before nodding.

“Very well. If she is not back by tomorrow, we will send a search party,” Thorin says before leaving the room.

Bilbo and Dis exchange a look before they follow the king out.

The next morning, you find yourself in an unfamiliar bed in an unfamiliar bedroom and you shoot up in panic. You look around, trying to gauge where you were. You notice that the room looked similar to yours so you were still in the mountain. That’s a relief.

You see a figure sitting in the armchair, slumped and then you remember.

You and Andvari had spent all night talking and you had stayed in his chambers afraid that your father would be waiting for you in your room.

You sigh, laying back in your bed for a bit before standing.

You make your way to the door before stopping and looking at Andvari’s sleeping figure. You and he had a lot in common. Like a lot. You quite enjoyed his sense of humor and you could feel yourself falling for him and you didn’t know how to feel about it.

You continue making your way out the door and when you step out, you freeze as you make eye contact with Thorin.

“I can explain?” You ask as anger clouds his features yet again.

“Where have you been? I have been worrying about you all night!”

“I’m fine! I just needed to think!” You snap back, your mood turning sour despite it starting just a few minutes ago.

“In Prince Andvari’s room?! Did you sleep with him? Out of wedlock?!”

“I didn’t! Unlike you, I didn’t make a drunken mistake! I slept in his bed and he slept in the armchair next to the fire! You can check for yourself because he’s still there. If you excuse me, this bastard has duties to attend to,” you reply before promptly walking back to your room.

For the first time in 91 years, your relationship with your father was going down hill and you weren’t sure it was going to come back up.

Forever Tag List: @miss-mcbotty @sdavid09 @why-pace-why y @emilyymichelle @bee-wrecker @raisaioana71 1 @clockworkfall @dracsgirl @imaginesreblogged @realgreglestrade @brewsthespirit-blog @angstflaff @nelswp @savvythedork @j25m18c24 @general-stormpilot @evra-von-what @bellastellaluna @thepoet1975 @k-youre-a-fantasy @boyfriendsarebetterinbooks @the-latine-trickster @darknessfaerieofmoonlight @thegreyberet @evyiione @polychr0matic @strangewhovian-blog @nerdyandexhausted @aspiringtranslator @apathetic-bisexual @cd1242 @captain-amelia-bradley

Hobbit Tag List: @jotink78 @its-emma-asinme @legolas-bromance @thealbersclan @youtubehelpsmesurvive @annajolras @sapphire110611 @filmozerca @darkblaze16 @pandepirateprincess @emrfangirl @crazefantwins @1lotr-trash @sweeticedtea @serenityfirefly97

Troubles of the Heart: @thilbob

#troubles of the heart #the hobbit #fanfiction #reader insert #bilbo x thorin #series

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itsthegameilike · 7 years

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Just some fic recs...

I’ve read a lot of really good fic this year and I just thought the best of the best deserved some recognition. I tried to weed out the super popular fics, but some still show up because I love them that much. Also, the ships are numerous and varied.

Running on Air--eleventy7; Drarry Draco Malfoy has been missing for three years. Harry is assigned the cold case and finds himself slowly falling in love with the memories he collects. *I would murder people to protect this fic. It’s beautifully written, well-plotted, original, and it reuses certain sentences, making them more poignant the later in the story they’re used. Like, fuck me up*

the ghost of you--kissmesexybatman; Klance When Keith goes missing without a trace, all his family and friends are able to do is move on with their lives. When he shows back up after a year, they have to convince him they still want him back. *I may be slightly biased because the coolest person in the world wrote this, but let me tell you, it’s emotionally heartwrenching, wonderfully written, and gives you a happy ending without sacrificing the needs of the characters*

My soul is an empty carousel at sunset.--dawnstruck; Otayuri Yuri grows up and grows older and grows into himself. Otabek helps. It just takes a while to get there. *I’m demi and this fic described exactly what that experience has been like for me, as it features a demi!Yuri. Beyond that, it was sweet and genuine and I adored it*

Dewey Despicable--ghostystarr; Klance "To the toddler who left coffee stains all over the ancient myth books – have you ever heard of these fantastic things called lids? You can put them on all sorts of things; cups, Tupperware, a coffin. Which is exactly what I’ll be shutting you in if you desecrate my thesis paper’s primary sources again." *This one is just hilarious and sweet and adorable and it made me smile for hours*

tears and vines--adamganseys; Pynch The turn for Monmouth is about to come up when Adam speaks again. “Do you want me to drop you at Monmouth?” There’s a note of reluctance in Adam’s voice, and that’s when he realizes how very much he wants Ronan to come to his apartment with him, how much he needs his comforting presence after what just happened.

Ronan studies him in that intense way of his before replying, “I’d rather just chill at St. Agnes a bit, if that’s cool with you.”

(Or, my response to the prompt things you said when you were crying, where Ronan comes to Adam's apartment with him after Robert Parrish's trial) *A nice, slight deviation from canon fic that really utilizes Adam’s connection to Cabeswater in the best possible way. Plus, Ronan is excellent in this*

Mental--sara_holmes; Drarry Harry has had quite enough of sharing his mind with someone else, thankyouverymuch. A miscast Legilimecy spell says otherwise. *This is one probably everyone has read, but if you haven’t, fucking do it. It’s sweet, well-written, and Draco’s characterization is amazing. Definitely one of the favorite ones I have*

Nerve Endings--Phyona; Viktuuri When Yuuri moves in with Victor in St. Petersburg, they have to work through Yuuri's anxiety and Victor's secrets to find their balance. *Again, probably everyone has read this, but jesus christ if you haven’t, it’s a must. Yuuri is done wonderfully, especially his anxiety, and the relationship is sweet and caring and perfect*

Smoke and Mirrors--Footloose; Merthur Merlin's magic has been revealed, and it has all gone wrong. Arthur might hunt him, he might hate him, but Merlin can't help but protect him from afar. *It’s angsty as shit and frankly, does not get any less angsty as it goes, but it deals well with the magic reveal and the writing is hauntingly lovely*

The Lullaby of Nifflish Erupments--sheafrotherdon; Wolfstar Sirius Black is a Boy With Ideas. Remus Lupin is the target of his cunning plan. James merely loses his underpants. *This is short and sweet and hilarious and Sirius is just so Sirius*

A Creature Void of Form--ignipes; Wolfstar Christmas, 1994. Two men, a cave, a hippogriff, some blankets, a hot meal, a blizzard, a bottle of vino rosso, and a conversation. *Again, kind of super angsty, but it never fails to make me feel warm inside by the end. There’s just something about the devotion against all odds in this one*

Play Your Cards Right--merlywhirls; Solangelo Will and Nico meet through a Mythomagic forum board and begin texting, and begin to own themselves. *It’s a truly delightful texting fic. This author is so goddamn good at them. It’s pretty short and funny and definitely romantic*

Étude--xlydiadeetz; Lamen “The heart has a melody. Once you discover it, there’s no going back.”

Present day, Auguste is dead. The Golden Pianist is gone, and Laurent finds himself completely alone in the world. Haunted by the ghost of the promise he never accomplished, he goes through the stages of grief as he remembers his brother and deals with the return of a high school crush who makes him start to believe once again in the beauty of music. *Yet again, I’m probably a little biased, but this fic has heart. It’s painful a lot of the time, harsh mistakes are made by the characters, but it doesn’t take away from how human they are and how much they all love each other*

When There’s Moonlight, I See Your Eyes.--Kali Cephirot; Noah and Brian There is, hidden in the hatch where Noah existed for the past two years, even deeper than that, the smallest, tiniest, brightest little hope that likes to go maybemaybemaybe at him if he thinks too hard about this. *The only fic I’ve read--admittedly there aren’t many for I’ll Give You The Sun--where Noah is captured perfectly and it definitely pays off. This fic is lovely*

Adunatio--Vixenette; Wolfstar A potion accident has unexpected consequences *I think you know what the potion does, but FUCKING READ IT. That’s all I’ve got*

Because I Cared--jostenminyard; Andriel Andreil prompt: A Raven sneaks a dashboard lighter on to the court and Neil gets hurt and has a panic attack. *Because everyone has read Lessons in Cartography and I haven’t read nearly enough fic for these two. This one is super good, however short. It’s just so them*

Midnight Doesn’t Last Forever--ghostystarr; Solangelo "So come and watch the sunset with me?" Solangelo. *This is reread worthy. Fluffy and fun and it captures the personalities of Will and Nico so perfectly and makes me love them like ten times more than I already did*

Sansûkh--determamfidd; multi The battle was over, and Thorin Oakenshield awoke, naked and shivering, in the Halls of his Ancestors.

The novelty of being dead fades quickly, and watching over his companions soon fills him with grief and guilt. Oddly, a faint flicker of hope arises in the form of his youngest kinsman, a Dwarf of Durin's line with bright red hair.

(Follows the story of the War of the Ring).

(Bagginshield, Gimli/Legolas) In which recovery takes time, the dead members of the Company take to watching Gimli as though he’s a soap opera, the living struggle with being left behind, Legolas is confused, Khuzdul is abused, and Thorin is four feet and ten inches of guilt and anger. *Listen, so many people have read this, but I had to. It’s a must read, even if you aren’t a Lord of the Rings person. I’m telling you. You won’t regret it for a second*

Time Isn’t Real (but you’re a constant)--SpiritsFlame; Pynch "Time is what prevents everything from happening at once." - Albert Einstein.

Adam wakes up in the future, learns a few things about himself, about time, and about his priorities. But mostly he just wishes that Time was doing it's job better. *A relatively well known fic, but it’s my favorite pynch fic by far. There’s just something about younger Ronan and older Adam interacting. Well, and the other way too. The older versions are so beautiful and in character, but they’ve also grown and it’s just so rewarding ughhhh*

Text Talk--merlywhirls; Wolfstar Sirius is in boarding school, Remus is in hospital, and they don't know each other until Sirius texts the wrong number. *And the holy grail. I have read this fic like twelve times. I don’t even care if you like Remus or Sirius or if you don’t read texting fics or you don’t like harry potter, you have to read this. It’s my life. It is my comfort food*

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mandysimo13 · 7 years

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A Splash of Healing - A Bagginshield Summer Surprise!

My prompt from @aquilea-of-the-lonely-mountain for this cool event was, from Thorin’s perspective: “I swear, if you splash me one more time...!”

You can read the whole thing here on AO3!

The first time Thorin had visited the Shire, he had hated it. Too much green, too many low hills, too much sky overhead. Too many wandering eyes and hurried whispers watching him as he made his way through Hobbiton. Too many twists and turns that turned you around no matter how many maps or wizards were at your disposal. Everything in abundance reminding him just how much he’d done without and, for better or worse, how far he’d come.

The one exception to his dislike was the food. Hobbits, at least, knew how to entertain and fill a belly.

His second trip to the Shire was much more pleasant.

He was no longer a pauper king, with more soot under his fingernails than gold on his fingers. No longer did he have the deeply set bags under his eyes that carried the weight of his people. Once again, his beard grew long and he delighted in being able to run his fingers through it for the first time since Smaug almost ruined him. His frame had filled out after judicial applications of filling food by orders of his One, Bilbo. After five years of constant rebuilding efforts, Bilbo declared it was time for a break and that he longed to see his home for the midsummer festivities. Their visit was spent in happy company, even if Bilbo’s relatives were nosier than a dog on a scent.

With Bilbo as his guide, Thorin hadn’t been lost once. Unless, of course, you counted the way Thorin would lose himself staring at Bilbo as firelight danced across his still bright curls as they sat in their chairs at night, sentimental as it sounded.

Thorin had made himself acquainted with Bilbo’s most favorite relatives, cousins Drogo and Primula and their young son Frodo. Where most of Bilbo’s relatives were uneasy around dwarves, unaccustomed to their at-first-sight-brisk nature, Prim and Drogo engaged him in lively conversation and didn’t show a single sign of hesitance. As such, Frodo took a shine to him immediately, peeking out from behind his mum’s skirts and asking him about his swords and “if you’re really a king, where’s your crown?”, much to the embarrassed amusement of his parents.

Thorin loved all of them immediately. Frodo in particular, reminding him so much of his own nephews with his mischievous grin and shining, curious eyes.

After that trip they had made it a point to visit each year for midsummer. For six years, he and Bilbo enjoyed their light and witty banter, sharing the local gossip behind fans and cups of tea. Who was courting who, what pranks the tweens had pulled, what had Lobelia’s knickers in a bunch this week were all topics of conversation best discussed over a good plate of cakes on the table and Frodo bouncing on Thorin’s knee.

When news of Prim and Drogo’s death reached Erebor, Thorin truly mourned for their loss.

The day the news came, Bilbo had rushed to his side in council, eyes wet with distress and trembling with emotion the likes he had not seen since Thorin was laid on a cot on the battlefield. In his hand, a letter was clutched tightly.

“What has happened, ghivashel,” Thorin asked, immediately on high alert.

Bilbo swallowed thickly, his words seemed to be stuck with the need not to fall apart in front of the council. “Th- Thorin,” he croaked.

Thorin rushed to his side to collect Bilbo in his arms. He clutched him tightly and felt Bilbo shudder against him. Without turning away, he told Balin to clear the council room. When all had left, Bilbo finally let out a heartbreaking sob.

“Amrâlimê, you’re scaring me,” Thorin whispered into his hair. “Please tell me what’s wrong.”

“It’s Drogo,” Bilbo whispered, “and Prim. They’re gone.”

“Gone? Gone where?”

“They’ve died. Drowned in the river, according to Lobelia.” His sobs muffled themselves in Thorin’s tunic and Thorin couldn’t help but join him in tears. While he hadn’t known them as long or as well as Bilbo, he had been proud to call them both friends. To hear of their deaths made him ache and he clutched Bilbo tighter, lending him all the comfort and support he could muster.

“I’m so sorry, ghivashel. Truly.” He kissed Bilbo’s head, nuzzling down into his curls and letting his tears wet them. But then he remembered something desperately important, snapping to attention.

He jerked just far enough away so as to look into Bilbo’s reddened eyes. “What of Frodo?”

“Oh,” Bilbo said, face crumbling. “Oh, he lives.”

Thorin breathed a sigh of relieve. “Thank Mahal.”

“Indeed, Yvanna be with him.”

Thorin recollected Bilbo in his arms and stood, rocking him in silence for a moment. Then he broke it by asking, “what is to come of him, then? Without his parents, who will take care of him?”

“Lobelia says that he’s been collected by the Brandybucks. He’s in Brandy Hall with his cousins. They’re taking care of him, now.”

Thorin hummed and nodded. “That’s good. Being with family is good.”

“Yes,” Bilbo weakly agreed.

They stood there, clutching each other tightly until the immediacy of their grief had subsided. Thorin called to Balin and told him that all further business would be put on hold for the day. Balin paid them his deepest condolences and assured him that business would be taken care of and that they were to retire for the day.

After they retired to their room, Bilbo helped him trim off a large portion of his beard. He let Bilbo cry and talk of his cousins until words had run dry. They made love in the flickering light of their hearth, reaffirming life in each other and taking reassurance from their kisses and gasps of pleasure.

Afterwards, in the dark before sleep, Thorin thought about Frodo’s fate. He looked down, watching Bilbo sleep in the crook of his arm, his fingers curled into Thorin’s chest, body pressed tight to his. Thorin had always had a fondness for Frodo, just as Bilbo had. He thought on what he felt like to be an orphan at his old age, how much he missed his parents and his brother even though he was over two hundred years old. He wanted to find a way to alleviate Frodo of all that pain.

Which gave him an idea.

“Bilbo,” he whispered. “Ghivashel, you awake?”

Bilbo groaned, rubbing his face into Thorin’s chest. “I am now, dratted dwarf.”

“I was thinking-”

“Highly improper at this hour-”

“Hush, kurdel.” He ran a soothing hand up and down Bilbo’s back. “I was thinking, what if we adopted Frodo.”

Bilbo’s eyes snapped open and in a flash he was sat straight up. “Sweet Yvanna, what are you talking about?”

Thorin, unfazed by Bilbo’s reaction, explained himself. “I know what it’s like to be orphaned, amrâlimê.”

“So do I,” Bilbo insisted. “In case you’ve forgotten, my parents are gone as well.”

“Aye, I know. Which is why I think that we’d be able to help him.”

“But...that’s impossible! Where would he live?”

“He would live here.”

“Without any other hobbits? That’s insane, Thorin.”

“You do it,” Thorin reasoned.

“Yes, well,” Bilbo said flippantly, “I’m ‘Mad Baggins’ who runs off and marries dwarven kings and has grand adventures with wizards. After I’ve reached my majority, mind.” Bilbo, softly emphasized, “Frodo’s only a boy. Not even a tween yet.” His eyes watered again. “Gods, he’s only twelve! I couldn’t take him away from his home after losing his parents.”

Thorin nodded. “He’d have you, though. His “Uncle Bilbo”. He could be happy here with you, learning languages, exploring the world. He’d be well provided for, well protected, and I’m sure he would make friends fast here.”

Bilbo still looked skeptical. “I don’t know Thorin. If we lived in the Shire, it would be different. I’d march into Brandy Hall, myself, and take him to Bag End without question. But this,” he sighed deeply. “This may be too big a move.”

“Don’t decide on anything now,” Thorin urged. “Midsummer is two months away. What if we left a little early, visited with Frodo and then decide?”

Bilbo nodded, weariness creeping up on him again. “I’ll write to Lobelia in the morning. To let her know that we’re coming.”

“Good.” He kissed Bilbo softly before settling them back into the sheets.

~*~

One month after hearing of his cousins death, Bilbo lead the way into Hobbiton. Their small traveling party consisted of Thorin, Bilbo, Dwalin, and a few guardsmen to move them swiftly and safely through the wilds. From his own mount, Thorin reached across the space between himself and Bilbo, atop his own pony, to take his One’s hand. With a deep breath and stiff spine, Bilbo marched them into the town as calmly as you please.

They were met in the market by Lobelia and Otho Sackville-Baggins.

“Look at you lot, riding those great beasts into town. Have you no regard for delicate constitutions, Bilbo Baggins,” she harped.

“And a good morning to you, too, Lobelia.” Bilbo dismounted and collected his cousin into a stiff hug. “Good to see not much has changed.”

She hugged him in return before stepping back to regard him. “You’re weary.”

“We are,” Bilbo confirmed.

“Well, I’m sure you remember the way to Bag End, then. I mean, after all, you did used to live there.”

Lobelia began walking towards the road that led to Bag End and Bilbo followed, knowing the rest of the party would follow. “I remember the way. Has Hamfast stocked up? We sent a raven a few days ago, telling him of our progress.”

��I imagine he’s got things well in hand.”

Thorin felt antsy and out of place away from his husband’s side. So, wordlessly, he too dismounted and joined Bilbo and Lobelia in their walk.

“I see you’re still with this raggamuffin,” Lobelia remarked.

“I am, indeed.”

Lobelia looked at him, evaluating his appearance. “Your beard is shorter.”

Thorin stiffened. “It is, yes.”

“Did you finally see reason and cut it back? Looks better this way.”

“It’s a sign of mourning, Lobelia,” Bilbo informed her.

“What’s he got to mourn? It’s not like they were his cousins.”

Thorin bristled at Lobelia’s harsh words. He opened his mouth to speak but Bilbo beat him to it. “Cousin, if you insist on continuing to mock and intrude, you’d best be served cackling with the other hens at the Pony or the Dragon. Good day!” And with that, he took Thorin’s hand and sped up his pace towards his old home, leaving Lobelia sputtering in the dust.

When they were a good distance away, Thorin brought Bilbo’s knuckles to his lips and kissed them. “Ghivashel, you didn’t have to-”

“Oh, but I did,” Bilbo insisted. “If nothing else, it might make that relentless harpy think twice about the impact of her words.” Thorin let it go and focused on running his thumb soothingly over his One’s knuckles as they walked the rest of the way to Bag End.

When they arrived, they found Hamfast working in the garden. He smiled and waved, dropping his pruners before making his way over. “Bilbo Baggins! And Thorin, as well! Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.”

Bilbo smiled his first genuine smile in weeks as he hugged his friend. “It’s good to see you too, old friend. Though, I’m sorry it weren’t under better circumstances.”

Hamfast nodded, “true, true. It came as quite a shock to us, Prim and Drogo. I swear, the whole Shire paused when news made the rounds.”

Bilbo dropped his head, sorrow creeping back into his eyes. Thorin wrapped his arm around Bilbo, pulling him close. “We were deeply saddened by their passing, ourselves,” he told Hamfast. “We came to pay our respects. To see Frodo. Do you know how he fares?”

“Oh, sure! Here,” Hamfast said, wiping his hands on his trousers and gestured to the steps. “Why don’t we all go inside, have a nice cuppa and chat awhile?”

“That would be lovely,” Bilbo said gratefully.

By that time, the rest of their party had joined them at the gate. Dwalin landed on the ground and began delegating duties to the hands they’d brought with them. Thorin already made arrangements for their guards to stay in Bree until they required their services for the journey home; but before then they would help unload the few possessions they had brought.

Once inside, Bilbo set himself to the familiar task of making tea. Letting his One settle into his old home, Thorin was off to the room he shared with Bilbo. He closed the door behind him and let out a sigh of relief at being alone. A little over three weeks of fast paced, close quarters traveling had Thorin exhausted and chafing at the people who had traveled with them. He had grown accustomed to an excess of space and privacy and sorely missed it on the road.

Spying an ewer of water and a basin set out for them, he thanked Hamfast’s foresight heartily and stripped to begin a perfunctory wash up. He was just swabbing his chest with a wet cloth when the door opened and closed behind him.

“I see you’ve found the water, then,” Bilbo said with amusement in his voice.

“The dust is intolerable.”

Bilbo wrapped his arms around Thorin’s bare torso. “You’ve grown soft, my dear.”

Thorin chuckled and turned in his arms. “Like you’re one to talk.” He wrapped his damp arms around Bilbo’s dusty traveling clothes. “You’ve always been rather soft, yourself.” He poked Bilbo’s side and counted it a win that he earned a giggle for his troubles.

Bilbo swatted his chest in retaliation. “Stop it! This is a serious matter, Thorin Oakenshield. And look at this,” Bilbo sighed at the sight of Thorin’s chest. “I’ve gone and gotten you all dusty again. So sloppy of me.”

“Rude, is the word you’re looking for,” Thorin replied. He dropped the cloth back in the basin and worked Bilbo’s buttons apart. “But I’m sure you can fix your errors in etiquette, âzyungel.”

Bilbo hummed, enjoying Thorin’s hands working over him. “I’m sure I have a few tricks up my sleeve.” He shrugged out of his shirt. “Here, hand me that cloth.”

Between kisses and charged touches, they washed and dressed in fresh clothes before meeting Hamfast back in the dining room for a quick meal. Over tea, scones, some cold cuts and fresh fruit, Hamfast told them of the happenings in Hobbiton since Prim and Drogo’s death. He told them about how Frodo had been adjusting and told them where the boy’s parents were buried.

At length, Bilbo asked, “how did it happen?”

“They were fishing on the river. They knew the river was high and running fast with the spring rains but they thought they could handle it. They were good swimmers, experienced boaters. They should have been fine,” Hamfast said sadly. Bilbo nodded and Thorin smoothed a hand over Bilbo’s back.

After that, Hamfast wrapped up his visit pretty quickly and saw himself out. Bilbo seamlessly took up the mantle of homeowner once more and set about making sure things were in order. He began preparing for their dinner and Thorin helped him, not able to bear being apart from him while he processed a new wave of grief. The rest of the evening was passed in pleasant conversation, food and drink. They retired early, eager to recover from their journey.

~*~

The next day, Bilbo and Thorin made their way over to Brandy Hall to see Frodo. When they arrived, they were treated to the sight of a dozen young ones chasing each other in a game of tag outside the hall. The sight warmed Thorin immensely, gratified to see that even amongst the many races of Middle Earth, children were not all that different across the board. One of them noticed their approach and shouted their arrival to presumably the rest of the Shire, based purely on the level of their voice.

“Oi! Everyone! It’s Cousin Bilbo!”

The kids flooded towards them, eager with greetings and requests for stories. “Yes, yes, I’ll tell you all stories in due time,” he assured them. “Goodness Meriadoc, you’ve grown.”

“Mum says so, too!”

“Where’s that trouble-making Peregrin? If you’re here, he’s not far off.”

Popping up from behind them, Peregrin announced himself. “Lookin’ for me, Bilbo?”

“Hello there, young cousin,” Bilbo greeted him, and the rest of the young ones by name as he slowly made his way to the door of the hall. Thorin noted, most acutely, that one name wasn’t among them.

“Where’s Frodo,” Thorin asked.

Meriadoc frowned. “Frodo’s in his room. He won’t come out and play no more.”

Bilbo shared a concerned look with Thorin and took his hand. “We’ll just have to go to him, then, won’t we? Want to show us the way, Meriadoc?”

It didn’t take long for them to find their way in the winding halls of the great house until they came to the room given to Frodo. Meriadoc knocked gently on Frodo’s closed door.

“Go away,” came a muffled voice from inside.

“Frodo, someone’s here to see you,” Meriadoc tried.

“I don’t want to see anyone, Meri! Tell them to go away!”

“Not even your old uncle Bilbo,” Bilbo asked temptingly.

“Uncle Bilbo!” Scrabbling could be heard from inside just before the door was whipped open to reveal the short, dark haired child. He launched himself into Bilbo’s waiting arms. “I missed you!”

Bilbo carded his fingers through Frodo’s hair. “I missed you too, dear heart.”

“I hope you didn’t forget about me, nidoy,” Thorin said fondly.

Frodo’s head snapped up from Bilbo’s shoulder to see Thorin standing by with a smile on his face. “Uncle Thorin!” He squirmed in Bilbo’s arms until he was let go so that he could go hug his other uncle. Thorin picked him up, clutching him to his chest and swinging him so that his legs dangled like he knew the boy liked, relieved to hear Frodo giggle.

“It’s good to see you, nidoy,” Thorin told him.

“Missed you, too,” Frodo told him. Once his feet were back on the ground, Frodo took a step back, suddenly shy. “You’re here because of mum and da, aren’t you?”

The adults nodded. Bilbo said, “but we’re also here for you, Frodo.” He held out his hand and said, “come on, how about a walk. Some fresh air. Then a snack, just like old times.”

Frodo nodded and took Bilbo’s hand. Thorin offered his as well and was pleased when Frodo took his just as easily. Once outside, they started down a rambling path that lead through a lovely patch of forest.

“How are the Brandybucks treating you,” Bilbo asked.

“They’re good to me. I get my own room where most have to share. So, that’s nice.”

“Privacy is nice,” Bilbo agreed. “Meri tells me you don’t want to play anymore.” Frodo shook his head and Bilbo asked, “why don’t you play with your cousins? They miss you, too.”

Frodo’s face scrunched up in guilt. “But…” he trailed off, unsure of what to say.

“You can tell us, nidayith,” Thorin assured.

Frodo looked up at him, then over to Bilbo before saying, “but, if I’m happy then it’s like I’ve forgotten. Whenever Pippin tells a joke and I laugh, or have Amaranth makes a good muffin, or Meri makes me play tag or charades I smile and laugh and I forget for a minute that they’re gone. That I can’t go home to tell them the joke, or share the muffins, or tell them about the game.” His eyes began to water and he stopped walking. “How could I forget about them?!”

And with that, Frodo began to cry freely.

Together, Bilbo and Thorin dropped to their knees to wrap Frodo in a double hug, trapping him between them. “Oh dear,” Bilbo soothed. “You could never forget them.”

“How do you know? What if I forget for good?”

“You’ll never forget them, nidayith,” Thorin told him. “They live on in you, in your heart and in your mind.” He pulled back to see Bilbo eyeing him as he spoke. “Trust me. Your uncles know a little something about grief.”

Frodo looked up at him. “Are your mum and dad gone, too?”

Thorin nodded. “Aye. As are Bilbo’s.” He looked to Bilbo. “Do you remember your parents, ghivashel?”

“Every day,” Bilbo confirmed. “Would it help if we shared some stories? About our parents, your mum and da? To show they’ll never be forgotten?”

Frodo brightened at that. “I get my own stories! I don’t have to share them with Meri or Pippin?”

Bilbo and Thorin laughed at that. “No, you don’t have to share. These are just for you,” Bilbo told him. “Tell you what, we’re not far from Bag End, how about we go there, pack a picnic and then we’ll find a spot to sit and eat lunch. Maybe you know a few stories I don’t know yet about Prim and Drogo Baggins.”

“Have you heard this one,” Frodo asked and then without waiting for an answer, delved into a story about the time Drogo tried to bake a tray of lemon tarts. By the time he was finished they were coming up to the gate and the adults were in stitches. In a flash, they had a nice basket packed with sun tea, sandwiches, summer fruit, and a few tea cakes for dessert. Out of well practiced habit, Bilbo lead them on a trail towards the woods where there was a small creek. Frodo paid their trail no mind, enraptured in Thorin’s story about his mother’s dumplings.

“-and she never let anyone help her in the kitchen. She insisted that we would wreck them, no matter how many times she showed us how to make it.”

“Did she whack your knuckles with her spoon,” Frodo asked excitedly.

“That she did, Frodo.” He rubbed his knuckles for emphasis. “She had a mean flick of the wrist, amad, did.”

“Your amad and my mum would have gotten along real well,” Bilbo told him with a chuckle. “Why I remember the time…” Bilbo trailed off when he realized Frodo was no longer walking between them. He looked behind them to see Frodo staring off in the distance, terrified expression on his face. “Frodo lad, what’s the matter?”

Frodo raised a shaking finger to the creek in the distance.

Thorin asked, “the creek?” Frodo nodded and he asked, “Frodo, are you scared of the water?”

“That’s what killed them,” Frodo said, voice shaky.

Both Bilbo and Thorin walked back to collect the boy, talking soothingly to him. “The creek didn’t hurt them.”

“The water did.”

“The water did,” Bilbo confirmed. “But it was an accident. You can’t blame the water for being what it is.” Frodo didn’t answer so Bilbo asked, “do you want to go somewhere else?”

“Yes, please.”

“Right. The meadow, I think,” Bilbo said decidedly.

The rest of the afternoon passed without incident. They swapped stories about their parents, laughing and eating and enjoying the late afternoon sun. Eventually, though, it was time to take Frodo back to Brandy Hall for the night. It warmed Thorin’s heart to see him run over to his cousins with a smile on his face, calling for a game of cards after dinner. The whole flock of Bagginses, Tooks, and Brandybucks waved to them in parting and Bilbo and Thorin made their way back to Bag End.

Later that evening, while they readied themselves for bed Thorin decided to talk to Bilbo about Frodo’s fear of the water.

“Do you think he’ll get over it,” Thorin asked.

“Hmm?”

“Being afraid of the water? Do you think he’ll outgrow it?”

“Oh, with time I suppose he might.” Bilbo shimmied out of his trousers and reached for his nightshirt. “It’s still rather fresh, though.” He sighed, feeling guilty. “I should have anticipated it, to be quite honest. Who wouldn’t feel dodgy around the water after their parents had just drowned?”

He climbed into bed and into Thorin’s waiting arms. Thorin hummed in thought. “We dwarves are taught from an early age to face our fears. To fight them, overcome them. Lest they overtake us entirely.”

“Yes but you lot are warriors, Thorin. Born and bred.”

“Not all of us, ghivashel. We all go through some form of battle training, true, but most of us take a trade other than battle. You’d do well to remember Bofur was a miner. Dori’s a healer. Mahal’s beard, Bifur’s a toymaker!”

“Right, okay, I see your point.” He thought silently a moment before asking, “how did they teach you to face your fears?”

“We were taught to face them down as if they were our enemy. Then, to conquer them like the warriors in the old poems. If a dwarrow is afraid of heights, he is told to climb to the top of the mountain and pluck a stone from the top. If a dwarrowdam is afraid of beasts, she is taught to hunt and skin a pelt for her wall. To understand your fear, is to defeat it.” He paused, then asked, “how do hobbits teach their children not to fear?”

Bilbo shrugged. “We tell stories. Stories that have a moral. Not much to fear here in the Shire, we’re very well protected. But most children are afraid of the dark at some point in their life. We tell the story of how from darkness sprang life. How before the world there was darkness and that it wasn’t inherently bad or good, but held promise and purpose. That, if you keep your wits about you, there’s nothing in the dark to fear.” He scoffed. “Though, I well know from experience that that is a lie.”

Thorin chuckled. “On that we agree.”

They sat in silence for a few moments before Thorin spoke again. “What if we taught him to swim?” Bilbo didn’t answer him immediately, so he explained further. “If we can teach him the water is nothing to fear, so long as you are careful, maybe he can overcome his fear.”

Bilbo remained silent for awhile longer before replying. “We can ask him. Now, to sleep with you, silly dwarf.”

~*~

The next week was spent with relatives giving their tired condolences, obligated by expectation to come a’calling. Bilbo handled it all very graciously, if not a bit grumpy in his reception. Thorin did what he could to mediate when some of his relatives overstayed their welcome or got too nosy with their questions. In between visits, they answered correspondence from Erebor and the Blue Mountains, making sure that the kingdom was still running smoothly in their absence. They visited Brandy Hall often, making nice with the Brandybucks and talking with Frodo.

One night, Thorin asked Frodo if he would like to learn to swim. He nearly choked on his tea and Thorin patted him heavily on the back to clear his airway. “Mahal, nidoy. Don’t inhale your drink.”

“Why would I want to learn to swim?!”

“So that you can master your fear of the water. So that you don’t have to think twice about crossing the creek or the river. Who knows, one day you may need to.”

Frodo shook his head. “No...no no no no, that’s what killed mum and da!”

“Nidayith, listen to me.” Frodo calmed himself and looked to Thorin. “There are many things to fear in this world. You can die fighting orcs or climbing a mountain or sailing a boat, it’s true. But you can also die from climbing a tree or choking on your dinner. All fear does is paralyze you, stops you from acting smartly. I want to help you get rid yourself of your fear.”

“How would swimming help, though? My parents knew how to swim!”

“Sometimes you can do everything right and still lose,” Thorin told him plainly. “But the more prepared you are, the less likely it is to happen.”

“You know how to swim, too?”

“Aye. And so does your uncle Bilbo.”

Frodo thought about it. Thorin let him think, looking out over the gathering of family members who had assembled for dinner that evening. Finally, he asked, “you won’t let anything happen to me?”

“Oh, nidayith,” Thorin gasped. “Of course not. I’d never let anything hurt you.”

“Will uncle Bilbo be there, too?”

“He said he would.”

Frodo nodded, thinking it over again. “Okay. Teach me to swim.”

Thorin beamed and hugged his little nephew. “That I will, nidoy.”

~*~

Two days later saw them on the shores of a small fishing pond. Planning to spend the whole day by the water, the trio had packed a bountiful feast full of good food and drink, towels and extra clothes, and Bilbo had brought a journal and book should he tire of watching the swimming lessons.

Thorin, wanting to get a start on Frodo’s lessons right away, stripped out of his shirt and into the dark small clothes that would double as swim gear. He waded in up to his chest to test the temperature and, finding it cool but not freezing, waved Frodo inside. Frodo tiptoed up to the water’s edge, flinching slightly when his feet were kissed by the gentle ripple of Thorin’s wake.

“Just one step at a time, nidoy,” Thorin encouraged.

“Exactly,” Bilbo piped up from where he sat on the dock, watching them. “One step at a time.”

“You know, you could join us,” Thorin said with a wry smile.

Bilbo snorted in laughter. “And come out smelling like the ducks? No thank you, Thorin. But by all means,” he gestured to the water he was in, “don’t let me stop you.”

Thorin rolled his eyes and encouraged Frodo further until his feet up to his ankles were submerged. “How are you feeling, nidoy?”

“Wet. Cool.”

“Very apt,” Thorin joked. “Take another step.”

Frodo waded in up to his knees and stopped. “This isn’t so bad.”

“See? Nothing to fear. Come a little closer.” He held out his hands, beckoning him closer.

Frodo took a few more steps until he was up to his waist and then he began to doubt the safety of the water. “I can’t see my feet anymore. What if it falls out from under me!”

“I’m here, niyadith. Nothing will harm you here.”

“Thorin is very good at catching people. Ask him some day how he scooped me off a mountain top,” Bilbo remarked as he laid out on the dock.

“You scooped up uncle Bilbo?”

Thorin bit his lip, trying to hide his embarrassment. He hadn’t exactly scooped up Bilbo. More like he grabbed him by the collar of his coat and tossed him up like he was a toy. He accomplished the goal of saving Bilbo’s life before he plummeted to his death, so Thorin refused to apologize for his rough manhandling, thank you very much.

“Never mind that, now, nidoy. Here, take my hands.” He walked closer and held them out for Frodo to take. “I’m going to take you in deeper.”

“Deeper?”

“Yes. You will float, but I won’t let go. Don’t panic, let your body move with the water. You’re safe with me, okay Frodo?”

Frodo nodded, eyes wide. Hand in hand, Thorin walked backward into deeper water. Not once did he let his easy, reassuring smile drop from his face, nor did he move his eyes away from Frodo’s face as he looked down into the water to try and see their feet. One step into deeper water and Frodo could no longer touch the bottom. He panicked and tried to flail but Thorin was there in a moment with an arm around his back to hold him steady.

“Shh, nidoy, I’ve got you. Be still.”

“But I can’t touch the bottom! I’m going to fall!”

“Do you trust me,” Thorin asked. Frodo swallowed thickly and nodded. “Then trust me. Let me guide you. Be still.”

Frodo clung to Thorin as he slowly stepped further back until he, too, began to float. Arms holding Frodo securely, he treaded water out until he was keeping them both afloat by the kicking of his feet.

“How do you feel, nidoy?”

“This is odd. This feels odd. I’m floating,” Frodo said, bewildered.

Thorin chuckled. “It can feel odd if you're not accustomed to it, yes. Ready to try a little yourself?” Frodo clung tighter until he soothed him. “Relax, I won’t let you go until you’re ready. Here,” he held out one hand. “Take my hand.” Frodo did so, Thorin gripping it tightly to hold Frodo up as he grasped the boy’s other hand. “Now, kick your legs.”

Frodo began kicking, treading water and Thorin felt a swell of pride. “Excellent, Frodo! Kick kick kick!”

“Well done, Frodo,” Bilbo said from his perch on the dock. Thorin looked up at him and saw his One looking back at him with incredible fondness. He took note of how Bilbo had already removed his waistcoat and undone the top lacing of his collar to let his skin breath under the sun. He swore he would never get used to how attractive his husband was, how distracting.

Speaking of distractions , he thought.

Refocusing on Frodo, he began the next part of his lesson. “Now, for a tricky part. I’m going to let go for a moment and I want you to wave your arms in the water like this.” He showed Frodo, one handed, the motion he was meant to repeat. “We’ll do it on three, ready?”

“You’ll catch me if I fall?”

“I’ll catch you if you fall. But don’t be afraid if you do, it’s all part of learning. I know you can do this.”

“Okay, uncle Thorin.”

“Ready? One, two, three.” On three he released his hands and Frodo’s hands slapped down to the water and they flailed a little as his head sank under the water. His head popped up and he sputtered a bit and he reached out for Thorin to hold him again and Thorin went willingly back to him. “That was a good first try.”

“I fell!”

“And I was here to catch you, right?”

Frodo, disgruntled, said. “I guess.”

Just then, a big splash hit Thorin in the side of his head. He squawked in surprise before gathering enough wits to hear his love laughing at him. He turned a frown on Bilbo and said, “what in Mahal’s name was that for?”

Bilbo, in between cackles said, “I’m sorry, love. But it just seemed only fair that your hair got wet when Frodo’s got dunked in the drink. Now you match.”

Thorin sniffed in annoyance and said, “if you don’t mind, I’m trying to teach here.”

Bilbo held up his hands in surrender. “Oh, pardon me King Under the Pond. By all means,” he gestured for them to continue.

“Now, how about we swim a little closer in and you can try the movement again with your feet on the ground?”

“That sounds good.”

“Okay, here we go-aaugh!” Another splash hit the side of his face and he was then faced with the laughter of both Bilbo and Frodo. “I swear, Bilbo, if you splash me with water one more time-”

“You’ll what,” Bilbo challenged, mischief gleaming in his eyes. He splashed him once more, giggling as Thorin shook his head to free his eyes of water.

Catching the playful mood, Thorin grinned back wickedly. He turned his head to Frodo and said, “if you’ll excuse me a moment, swim lessons are paused for a few minutes while I teach your uncle a lesson.”

Frodo began to laugh as Thorin swam them back to shore. He deposited his little nephew on the ground and then made his way to the dock where Bilbo had perched himself. Now finding himself trapped at the end of the dock, he put his hands up in surrender.

“Now Thorin-”

“Now Bilbo,” Thorin mocked. He stalked towards Bilbo as his One took steps back towards the edge of the dock.

“Just what do you think you’re doing?”

“Oh, just coming for a little payback, ghivashel.”

“Payback? What are you going to- Thorin! Put me down! ” Bilbo struggled in Thorin’s grasp, trying to break free. “This is highly undignified!”

Thorin only laughed and said, “hold on tight,” before stepping off the end of the dock, plunging them into the water. They came back up together, Thorin laughing with his arms still wrapped around Bilbo’s middle.

Bilbo punched him in the shoulder and crossed his arms in a mighty impression of a sulk. “What did you do that for, Thorin Oakenshield?”

Thorin just squeezed him tighter and kissed his surly forehead. “Evening the playing field âzyungel.” All Bilbo had to say in response was another splash of water to the face.

From there, Bilbo joined in Thorin’s lessons and by the end of the day Frodo had gained a decent grasp on swimming. By the time Thorin and Bilbo left the Shire after the midsummer festivities a month later, Frodo was swimming like a fish and his fear of the water was gone. In the end, they decided it would be best for Frodo to live in Brandy Hall; at least for a little while. While Frodo wanted to see Erebor some day he wasn’t keen on leaving his home any time soon and his uncles understood. They promised to write more, checking in on him to be sure he was keeping his nose clean and getting on well with the Brandybucks. Frodo promised he would behave, as well as could be expected, and that he would pay attention in his studies.

As they left the boundaries of the Shire, Bilbo reached across the space between their ponies to grab Thorin’s hand.

“Thank you for helping Frodo, love.”

Thorin pulled Bilbo’s hand up to brush his lips to his knuckles. “No thanks needed, ghivashel. He is family. We help each other.”

Bilbo nodded, silence his only response. It wasn’t until later, when they stopped for a meal and a stretch that Bilbo’s good spirits returned. Stretched out on the ground, looking up at the sky, he said with cheek, “think we could find a river along the way? Perhaps later we can have a rematch?”

Thorin couldn’t help but laugh and shove Bilbo good-naturedly, falling even more in love with his One. “Don’t go go picking fights you can’t win, Master Baggins.”

Bilbo gasped in mock-hurt. “That sounds like a challenge, My King.”

Thorin resolved to find them a river as soon as possible. He was eager for a rematch.

#bagginshield #bagginshield summer surprise event #fluff #angst #thilbo #happy ending #my writing #writing #fic #my fic #aquilea-of-the-lonely-mountain

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shockcity · 7 years

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Bagginshield #4 - on a date

Rating: G Summary: for the 30 Day OTP Challenge. Dating for dwarrow is a harrowing experience. Bilbo is not impressed.

---------------

Balin found Bilbo in the library, where he and Ori were steadily making their way through the very disorganized incurable diseases section, which had somehow gotten mixed up with their very small collection of elvish histories. Bilbo was grumbling but spared a smile for Balin, who waited patiently for his attention. Finishing his latest stack, Bilbo turned to look at the old dwarf properly, but frowned when he noticed the expression on Balin's face.

"What's happened?" said Bilbo, trying not to panic. He pictured all sorts of horrible things: an accident in the mines, an orc invasion, Fili and Kili, a large fire, and Thorin cancelling their first date...okay, mostly just Thorin cancelling their date.

Balin shook his head and raised his hands. "Nothing, Bilbo, nothing! Peace, my boy. I only wanted to wish you good luck for tonight."

His words were loaded with a subtle hint of...warning? Bilbo raised his eyebrows.

"Only," Balin began, relenting. "Only, please remember that Thorin truly loves and cares for you. And ignore the cheat notes."

"Excuse me?"

"Goodbye!" called Balin, who was powering out of the library. "Good luck!"

"But what does that mean? Balin! Oh, confound these wretched dwarves," he muttered, turning back to his books.

----------

Bofur was skeptical that Balin had warned Bilbo properly, and said so.

"Then you ought to have done it, Mister Bofur," Balin huffed. "Anyway, it is quite out of my hands now."

"Yes, they'll be starting soon, won't they?" Ori announced morosely. "Who's Thorin's second?"

"...Dwalin."

Bofur shook his head sadly.

------

Bilbo met Thorin at the front entrance, which Thorin had insisted upon even though Bilbo had looked at him dubiously. The great hall where they had confronted Smaug shortly before the burning of Laketown was gleaming; the golden floors possessing an inner glow that both fascinated and sickened Bilbo in turn. He hurried through this unsettling part of the hall, spotting Thorin waiting at the doors. He seemed to be looking down at something, and as Bilbo drew closer he saw the dwarf hastily shove a piece of parchment into his pocket.

"Hel-" Thorin's voice broke and he quickly cleared his throat. "Hello. Welcome. Thank you for accepting my attentions."

"Um," replied Bilbo. "Okay."

He brushed the weird greeting off and leaned in to kiss Thorin on the cheek. Thorin turned bright red, and blinked down at Bilbo with a dazed little smile on his face. "You look beautiful, my hobbit."

Bilbo didn't think so-- in dwarvish cast-offs as he was. "I make do," he demurred. "So? Where to?"

Thorin cleared his throat again, shuffling in his voluptuous furs. He looked every inch the king of Erebor tonight, and Bilbo was pleased if a little puzzled by it. He wondered if the formality of it all was what was making Thorin so nervous.

"We begin here, in the halls of my ancestors," the king intoned. He motioned to the floor grandly. "See how it shines? Erebor has always been the crown jewel of the Kingdoms of Arda, and much more impressive than those elvish hovels made of sticks and offal."

"Um," said Bilbo.

"In year 1999 of the Third Age, after the fall of Khazad-dûm...."

Bilbo wasn't entirely sure what was going on here, but figured he would let Thorin talk himself out and hope there was food by the end of it. Thorin's Very Important Person voice was in fine form tonight, and would have been sort of impressive had he not continued to sneak looks at the parchment in his pocket.

"...and ignore the cheat notes!"

Right.

"And now I present to you my finances," Thorin said grandly, startling Bilbo out of his daydreaming. Thorin reached into his other pocket and took out a thick packet of papers. Bilbo's jaw dropped, and he just barely managed to catch the offered bundle. "As you can see, you will never starve."

"Yes, um, right." He got a better hold on the papers and counted to ten, slowly, in his head. "Speaking of starving...."

"Yes, of course. BRING THE ELK," the king boomed, making him jump.

Ten dwarrow suddenly hustled out from the cold, carrying with them a large dead animal. They dropped it at Bilbo's feet. "I have hunted for us!" exclaimed Thorin.

"I...wow, that's...so...wonderful, Thorin." Bilbo was at a loss and his stomach was turning and what was going on here??? Then he looked at the animal properly.

"Thorin, whose elk is this?" he asked suspiciously.

Thorin's pleased look vanished at Bilbo's firm tone, and he had the sense to look sheepish. "It...nobody," he muttered.

Bilbo raised an eyebrow.

"It didn't have a collar?"

He groaned, but decided to be the better person and let it go. He would deal with Thranduil's temper tantrum later. For now, there was a dead animal to deal with. What is my life?

"Right, well, no use crying over dead elk." He sighed explosively. "We were talking about food...."

"YES I WILL NOW COOK FOR US."

Bilbo was so confused.

-----

"While we wait," Thorin said, sitting across from Bilbo at the rather cozy campfire where the skinned elk now rotated on a spit. "I will sing to you this ballad I have composed in your honor."

That...sounded surprisingly tame, and Bilbo decided to hear the dwarf out. This was proving to be the strangest date Bilbo had ever had, and though he did appreciate the sentiment behind the gestures, he would have better liked something simpler and with less official documents.

Thorin took out his harp, and Bilbo made himself comfortable. He loved Thorin's voice and his playing, and found that he was excited to hear what his dwarf had composed. The fire crackled merrily underneath the stars, as they took a moment to gaze at each other softly.

"'Twas in the Shireland, that Durin's son first saw his face, ne'er had he fallen so swift than in that green and gentle place."

Bilbo thought this was quite lovely, and smiled as the music rang into the beautiful night. Of course, things quickly went downhill after that.

"His feet were huge and ugly, and his voice could cut stone, and we partook of his pleasant pantry kept full though he lived alone. He was quite old to be unmarried–"

"Alright that's enough thank you!" he cut the song off, glaring. Thorin looked puzzled at Bilbo's discomfiture, and the hobbit dropped his head into his hands and sighed. "I think the food's ready."

"I SHALL FEED--"

"Yes, yes."

------

"...Thorin, what kind of seasoning did you use?"

"....seasoning?"

-----

Bilbo had a feeling that this next part of the date was supposed to include complimenting your love interest on their various dwarvish attributes. Thorin seemed to have stalled a bit at that one, scratching his head and muttering about beards as he examined his cheat notes carefully.

"I think you can skip that one," Bilbo finally told him, smiling at him helpfully.

Thorin instantly brightened. "My clever hobbit," he said. "Let us move on, then. Ahem. I have shown you my kingdom, told to you my history, summarized my finances, hunted for you, composed a ballad for you, and fed you. Now if it pleases my love, I will introduce to you my greatest treasures, of which I someday hope to count you among them."

Bilbo quite liked the sound of this, and really, sometimes Thorin was very romantic...and so he was pleased to follow Thorin back into the mountain and up to the royal wing. There, to his surprise, he found a group of very familiar people waiting in a line along the hall.

With a flourish, Thorin waved a hand at the assembly.

"I PRESENT TO YOU MY TREASURES."

"Ow," said Kili, rubbing his ear.

Thorin grabbed Bilbo's arm gently and tugged him over to Dís.

"This is my dear sister," he began. "She will protect you if ever I cannot. She will be your friend and confidant, and when I am away she will keep you warm at night."

Bilbo's eyebrows shot up.

"I will not," Dís objected. "And I'm already his friend."

"I'll keep you warm, Bilbo!" Nori called out from the end of the line.

"Moving on." Thorin cleared his throat. "My sister son, Fili, son of Vili– a credit to Durin's line. Defeater of Azog the defiler, winner of Dwarrow Weekly's Most Perfect Hair Award...."

"Uncle, please," Fili moaned, embarrassed.

"Very well. Onward."

They stopped in front of Kili and Thorin pursed his lips. "This is...."

Kili yawned and wiped his nose on his sleeve. He grinned at Bilbo guilelessly.

"...yes, well. And here we have my cousin Balin...."

The line ended with a very sympathetic looking Ori, who (like Bofur and Balin) reached out and patted Bilbo on the back. He appreciated their compassion, but would have preferred instead that they had given him a more detailed warning of the night's adventures beforehand.

After the introductions, they stood in front of the ragtag assembly; Thorin looking pleased as punch, and Bilbo beginning to relax now that it looked like this bizarre night was almost over.

"My hobbit, there is but one thing left to do to convey to you my everlasting devotion." Bilbo frowned. "I now present Dwalin, as my second."

"Your what?"

"I will prove myself to you as a warrior."

"You'll what?"

"BY DEFEATING MY LOVE IN BATTLE."

"Heads up!" shouted Bofur, as Thorin suddenly gave a ferocious cry and came at Bilbo with Orcrist. Bilbo slid out of the way just in time.

"Are you mad?!"

"I WILL NOW EXPRESS MY DEVOTION."

-----

"I have failed," Thorin moaned, his eyes wet with tears. He pressed a towel to his bleeding forehead as he slumped in a chair in Bilbo's rooms– looking completely desolate.

"I told you I was a fair hand at conkers," Bilbo said, somewhat unsympathetically. It had been a trying night, after all.

"I was supposed to show my prowess in battle," Thorin insisted. "And that I could protect you with my prodigious strength and ability as the greatest warrior in Erebor!"

"You'll remember that Dwalin didn't last much longer than you," Bilbo pointed out. "And you're both excellent warriors. I think you didn't really want to hurt me at all, Thorin, so you held back quite a bit."

"Of course I didn't want to hurt you!"

"Well, then, there you go."

Thorin shook his head in frustration. "It's not the way of things. It's tradition–!"

"Thorin," Bilbo interrupted him gently. He came over to his dwarf and ran gentle fingers through his hair, tilting his sore head up. "Did you enjoy yourself at all tonight?"

"Well." Thorin thought about it. "It wasn't so bad because I was with you."

"And that, my king, is exactly how I feel. So how about this: bugger tradition." Thorin gasped. "No, really. Throw it out. You're dating a hobbit, Thorin, the rules are different anyway."

"They are?" Thorin asked hopefully. Bilbo looked down at him and adored him very much.

"They are. In fact, it's tradition for hobbits to only court in the hobbit way, which is a given, seeing as no hobbit would ever date outside his race, except for me, of course. So let's honor my relations by doing it like they would do it in the Shire. Bit of a backwards honor, but there's no potential beheading, so our way is obviously the clear winner."

Thorin smiled. "Alright," he agreed. "But then how do hobbits date?"

"Mostly they just snog." Thorin gasped, scandalized. "But we'll start with a good meal and even better company."

#30 day otp challenge #bagginshield #hobbit fic #this is mostly crack

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