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sunnyrosewritesstuff · 3 years

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CONGRATULATIONS ON 99 FOLLOWERS SUNNY!!!! YOU DESERVE IT ALL AND MORE!!

Okay, for the prompt:

Bilbo and Thorin have a fight over (insert petty squabble material here).

*cue puppy dog eyes* What are they fighting over???

(gif via Tenor)

WOW!!! Sorry for the hella long hiatus, but I am back and ready to knock out some more of these asks!

Prompt: Bilbo and Thorin fight over (petty squabble material here).

Okay, so funny story. I had chosen literally the pettiest thing I could think of for Bilbo and Thorin to fight over (TEA TIME!) to make a nice, light-hearted fic...and then it turned into this. 😅

So I hope you don't mind 3K+ of angsty hurt/comfort with a soft ending!

BTW: While completely unimportant, I feel like it's worth notice that I wrote this ending to this fic with Evil Angel by Breaking Benjamin and Hold On by Justin Beiber on repeat which sounds like the strangest combination ever, but it legit worked!

Living the Hobbit Way- Chapter 1: Not Just About Tea

Rating: E

Warnings: N/A

Words: 7543 (total with Chapter 2)

Bilbo was casually sipping at his tea as his Aunt Belba prattled on about Uncle Rudy’s brewery, all the while Bilbo knowing who was the true brains behind the operations as she tried not to brag on herself by bragging on her husband instead. Baggins’ propriety indeed. His cousin, Jessamine, tried to contribute to the conversation and talk about her son, Odovacar, in her attempt to keep from being completely ramroded by her mother-in-law. Bilbo maintained a calm and serene air all the while trying very hard to remember why he used to enjoy these visits.

It had taken a year and a half for his Baggins relatives to accept him as respectable company again. Part of it was ‘time heals all wounds’, and make no mistake, Bilbo being the Head of the Baggins Family with Took blood in full force had certainly been a wound. He had been told more than once that his ‘Grandma Laura was rolling in her grave’. He always found it interesting that Grandpa Mungo was never brought up. Perhaps, the Baggins’ genes that hungered for a good story in both his grandfather and father also played a part in his desire for adventure as much as his Tookness. Of course, he knew the other side of the Baggins’, the need for juicy gossip, had more to do with why he suddenly had company for tea. For in the last few weeks, Bilbo had taken on a rather curious guest by hobbit standards. A guest who was regrettably late for said tea time, and Bilbo felt if he had to suffer his relatives, the cause for their visit should as well.

As if on cue, the door slammed open causing both hobbits to immediately stop talking with an air of hesitant anticipation. Bilbo remained unaffected as he stirred another splash of milk into his cup. Heavy dwarven boot steps were heard from the entryway, and Bilbo could visualize from the grumbling and echoes of boots hitting the ground, the exact moment Thorin was about to appear in the doorway of the sitting room. Still unbearably handsome, Thorin’s salt and pepper hair was pulled into a high bun after what Bilbo could only imagine was an unbearably hot summer day in the forge. The scar through his eyebrow did not detract from the magnetic pull his blue eyes still held over the hobbit. And while Bilbo knew the softness around his middle and the limp he will forever carry still bothered the dwarf, he was just too relieved that Thorin was here with them on Arda to allow the dwarf too many complaints. Much like all the hobbits who had come to visit Bilbo, he could tell that his opinions on Thorin’s attractiveness were shared by his aunt and cousin.

“You’re late for tea time.” Bilbo noted.

The dwarf’s frown became more pronounced. “My work at the forge ran long today.”

“Well, please join us now. There is plenty remaining.” Bilbo invited with Belba’s and Jessamine’s echoes.

“I’m afraid I will not be proper company for tea until after I have a wash and freshen up. Please, enjoy without me. Excuse me, Miss Hobbits, Master Baggins.”

Bilbo’s eyes turned to his saucer as he took a drink from his cup listening to his aunt and cousin’s assurances with a frown. This was the fourth time in a row that Thorin turned down tea time. Things had been...tense since Thorin chose to spend the remainder of his life with Bilbo in the Shire. Not that it had even been a situation Bilbo had prepared for! Much had been left unsaid when Bilbo took his leave of Erebor, satisfied in the knowledge that the sons of Durins would make a full recovery. Then Thorin had shown up out of the blue confessing that he abdicated the throne to Fili with Dis as Regent because he needed to ‘make amends’ to Bilbo. No matter how many times Bilbo tried to assure the dwarf that all was forgiven, he remained adamant. And perhaps, that was due in part to the fact that deep in their hearts, they knew it wasn’t all forgiven. It may never be forgiven, and no polite assurances of Bilbo’s would change anything.

Having got what they wanted, a peek at Bilbo’s dwarven guest, Aunt Belba and Cousin Jessamine were quick to finish their visit. He would imagine Thorin will be the topic in the Bolger and Boffin households for days to come. With a heavy sigh, Bilbo loaded the dishes back on a tray for a wash in the kitchen. As he worked his hands in the soapy water, he found himself becoming more irate at Thorin. Honestly, the dwarf wanted to ‘make amends’ with him, and yet still couldn’t adhere to a simple time schedule. It wasn’t like Bilbo hadn’t explained the significance of tea time before, but it seemed to be a point that refused to stick in thick dwarven heads!

Muttering and scrubbing, lost to the world, Bilbo nearly jumped out of his skin at Thorin’s voice behind him.

“Did your company already leave?”

Letting his heart slow back down to its proper speed before answering, Bilbo took a quick glance behind him to confirm that the dwarf actually had a wash as he had stated which judging by the different tunic and damp hair, seemed to be the case. Unfortunately, Bilbo’s tongue was too quick for his mind to dull his words.

“Yes, your absence was perfectly timed as always.”

Bilbo quickly averted his eyes back down to his task, but he could feel the indignation rolling off the dwarf in waves.

“Forgive me that I don’t adhere to all the ridiculous mealtimes of the hobbits.” Thorin growled.

“Yet, you wish to live among them. I haven’t heard you complaining about elevensies yet. Or is that an easy time to remember?”

That did it. Like a clock wound too tight, the tension that had been building up collapsed within seconds.

“I seem to remember not having the proper manners for tea time last week! I was slurping too loudly, leaving crumbs everywhere, does that pick strike gold, Master Baggins?” Thorin spat.

Bilbo spun around with a simple toss of the tea rag he was using to dry the pot. Fine, if Thorin wanted to have it out, Bilbo would be more than willing to oblige.

“Honestly Thorin! I’ve seen faunts behaving better. You’re a king.”

“Was.” Thorin corrected with controlled fury.

“Was.” Bilbo amended before continuing the digging of his largely growing hole. “You would think something like that is what they train princes for.”

Thorin gave a bitter smirk with his head raised tall, even as his eyes turned to ice. “No, I’m afraid my education was on how to treat burn wounds and how to protect a large group in the wild. My apologies that I was not reared to be the perfect pet dwarf for you to show off to your friends and relatives like one of your prized tomatoes.”

So, so many emotions stabbed Bilbo all at once. Guilt at his words, indignation at Thorin’s implication of his presence, hurt at his low regard, and all it proceeded to do is burrow itself in his already seething anger.

“All I’ve tried to do is make you feel welcome and accepted in the Shire! Which is far more kindness than I was shown at the beginning of our little quest.”

“Kindness?! You will steal away my dignity before I am “hobbity” enough for your satisfaction like the Burglar you are! And once again I will be none the wiser until I’m staring down at…”

Thorin’s voice choked off at the same time Bilbo released a small gasp, staring at him in fear and outrage. The words seeped into the room like a curtain being drawn between them, the longer they went without speaking. Bilbo waiting for an apology, and Thorin adamantly refusing to give it. It seemed all was not forgiven after all.

With no preamble, not even a simple nod, Thorin turned and started stomping down the hall in the direction of the front door. Bilbo’s heart staccatoed in his chest. That was it? He was just leaving? Bilbo’s feet started carrying him down the hallway after the dwarf.

“Go on, continue your sentence at least! When you’re staring at the object of your desire, what then Thorin Oakenshield?!”

Bilbo was ignored as Thorin roughly began to shove his boots back on his feet, strapping his sword back on his hip. There was a jolt of terror screaming down his back now. Thorin didn’t carry his sword through the Shire anymore.

“It’s just another home you’ve abandoned.” Bilbo bit out bitterly before he could stop himself.

He got one last sharp look at this before the door was wrenched open, and Thorin disappeared out into the lazy afternoon. The slam that echoed after him somehow managed to latch its claws into Bilbo’s heart. He was gone. He really left.

Numbly, Bilbo’s feet carried him back into the kitchen, the tea set glittering prettily at him from the bottom of the basin. Bilbo reached in and lifted one of the delicate porcelain cups with the purple heather decorating the lip. A gift from his Aunt Camilla after his mother died. With a snarl of agony, Bilbo hurled it at the back wall where it shattered, filling him with both satisfaction and hunger for more. So he threw the next cup, the saucer, and finally the pot itself before a sob wrenched past his gritted teeth.

Bilbo’s soapy hands came immediately to grip at the roots of his hair as his feet gave out, plopping him directly on the floor below. Pet dwarf. Was that really how Thorin felt? Bilbo thought he had been doing what he could to shield him from the prickly stares of the Shire. Because if Thorin was perfect, if they could find no fault with him...perhaps he wouldn’t be as mad as they all thought either. Bilbo cried in earnest now. That wasn’t right. None of what he did was right. None of what Thorin did was right either, and them continuing to tiptoe around the Arkenstone issue certainly helped matters none. And now, all was too late. He didn’t know where Thorin would go. Back to the Blue Mountains and “Thorin’s Halls” he would assume, but without his family, his friends who remained in Erebor, would the dwarf be happy? Or would he be lonely? Much like Bilbo, himself.

Bilbo attempted to bring himself back together as he wiped at his face and lifted his head. No, no that was not a fate he would deign for either of them. And Bilbo stopped Azog’s killing blow. He was getting fairly good at defying fate. He pulled himself back to his feet, albeit wobbly, and made his way to the Front Hall to retrieve his walking stick. Thorin Oakenshield had another thing coming if he thought getting rid of the hobbit was as easy as that. Even if afterwards, he still wanted to put an end to their companionship, Bilbo wasn’t letting him go without knowing the extent of his feelings. He yanked open the front door ready to tear off down the Hill once more only to trip and stumble over the body sitting on his stoop.

Bilbo quickly righted himself and looked down into the tear-stained face of the very dwarf he was setting out to find. With a cry of relief, Bilbo all but launched himself at Thorin. He could feel the still prominent muscles beneath him tense, clearly still in fight mode before it all escaped in one long drawn breath, and Bilbo’s embrace was returned tenfold.

“I thought you left for good.” Bilbo whimpered as his treacherous tears returned.

“I couldn’t.” Thorin’s broken voice breathed in his ear.

“I’m so glad.”

Bilbo didn’t know how long they sat there in the fading light of the sun, weeping and clinging to each other as if they might lose the other in an instant otherwise. He dared not dwell on just what his neighbors would think at such a public display, and yet rather viciously, let them talk.

“All this...over tea.” Thorin teased weakly as he finally was able to let Bilbo go.

Bilbo stroked the dwarf’s face, wiping away as much of the wetness as he could and silently marveling that he was allowed.

“No, Thorin. It’s about much more than tea. I think we need to have a discussion.”

His expression was rather defeated, but he nodded in agreement. Bilbo got up first before holding out his hand. Without a moment of hesitation, Thorin engulfed it in his own, filling Bilbo with the warmth of hope. He brought them to the parlor, fetched a couple of handkerchiefs for each of them, and then went back to make a pot of tea. Thorin snorted at the sight, but accepted the cup anyways.

“This is not your usual set.” Thorin commented after a long pause.

Bilbo hummed. “No, I’m afraid I destroyed it rather maliciously.”

A corner of Thorin’s mouth quirked upwards, but his expression still remained sincere.

“My apologies.”

“Oh Thorin, please...don’t.” Bilbo chided gently as he stared down at the plain blue cup in his hand.

No adornments of any kind. Yet, somehow the set his mother was most proud of.

“Purple heather.” Bilbo started to explain. “Like what was on the cups before, it can mean ‘admiration’ but it has another meaning: solitude. That was the role my relatives set for me the moment they realized Bag End would remain in the hands of a bachelor. So...I played by the rules, just as I tried to have you do. I was really, really good at it too. And then thirteen dwarves appeared on my doorstep.”

A pained look filled Thorin’s shiningl blue eyes. “Master Baggins…” He sighed.

“No, please.” Bilbo huffed, holding a hand up. “I’m not quite done yet. If you’ll let me?”

Thorin shifted uncomfortably, but nodded his assent. So Bilbo told him everything. His fears, his doubts, his moments of true enjoyment on the quest. It wasn’t easy. Laying himself bare to the dwarf, and this wasn’t even the hardest part. When he got to the dragon, his hands wouldn’t stop fidgeting as he spoke of the conversation with Smaug that planted the first seed of doubt in his mind about the dwarf. A dwarf he had come to truly care about. He spoke of what he saw in Thorin, what he saw in the others, how he felt in his heart that the Arkenstone could only lead to more despair, and how leaving to give the stone to Bard and Thranduil was the most desperate he had ever felt in his entire life. Well, until he saw Thorin pinned by the monstrous orc in a life or death struggle.

When Bilbo finished, his eyes were glued to the half-drunk cup of cold tea in his hands. Nothing more was said as Thorin seemed to be processing all that he heard.

“Being under the influence of the gold,” His voice broke the silence, softly and gravelly. “It was as if the small part of my mind, the one that has second guessed my decisions, held my paranoia, and my hate was finally given a voice. It was me, so it...felt right at the time. However, now…”

Thorin took a deep breath in before continuing.

“I will always be haunted by my behavior at that time. And no amount of apologies to you or our friends, our allies, will ever be enough. However, I will make them all the same, every day if needed, for what I did to you on the ramparts.”

Bilbo’s hands tightened to the point of shaking. However, he listened because he needed to hear this. Whether Thorin’s answer was satisfactory or not.

“The best way I can describe it...in the forge, there are times when the metal will explode in the hearth. It’s unpredictable, it’s blinding, and the tiny shards of white hot metal landing on your arm is painful. Seeing Bard with the jewel, and knowing it was you who gave it to him...it was a metal explosion. You were the one person, the only person that my paranoia could never suspect. To realize that my growing...affection for you had blinded me so, and to look over and see that all of my perceived enemies bore witness to my lowest moment...I don’t know how to describe that feeling. But in a matter of seconds, you stopped being Bilbo, and you were a greater enemy than Smaug or Azog for you attacked where I was most vulnerable. You attacked my heart.”

Bilbo heaved a deep breath and his vision blurred. However, he refrained from crying just yet. After all, Thorin had yet to stop even as his voice wavered.

“Had you revealed this deception in private…” Bilbo watched Thorin shrug helplessly out of his peripherals. Still too cowardly to look at him directly. “I want to believe that it would have been different. But...speculation does us no good. It was an injustice that tainted Erebor for me, and one that I needed to atone for. I just don’t know if anything I do will be enough. You are not robbing my dignity, it has already fled. So if you need me to play the part of…”

“No! Thorin!” Bilbo gasped, nearly spilling his tea in his lap in his hurry to put it down and reach out for Thorin’s hand, gripping it tightly between his own.

“I would not ask you to be a hobbit anymore than you would have me be a dwarf. I’m tired of playing by the rules of the Shire. We’ve both made mistakes, but I...I hope with this, we can move forward and find happiness. Here. With each other. And no one else’s opinion matters.”

Bilbo knew the exact moment when the metal cage he had locked his heart inside melted. Right here, when the lines around Thorin’s eyes crinkled, and his expression morphed from grief to a wary peace. Yet, it was enough. It was a new kind of quest for the both of them. Thorin bent down to kiss their conjoined fingers as if to seal a pact to a brighter future. It was by no means fixed, but time healed all wounds, and even the ugly, jagged scar that would remain behind did not put Bilbo off of the fact that Thorin would be here with him. In fact, he had half a mind to get himself a new tea set so every hobbit that felt like intruding on his person again would see his daffodils and primrose.

*Daffodils- new beginnings, Primrose- our love is eternal

#bagginshield #follower event #99 problems but our love ain't one #oof there was so much pain here #but i like that they're working through their problems #also! I felt like I made Thorin terribly OOC #is that just me?

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