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Dori
“I said drop him!” Kili shouted at William the troll who held Bilbo upside down in the air.
William growled at the dwarf before Bilbo was flying through the air towards him. Kili dropped his sword and caught Bilbo in mid-air, the force of it sending the pair of them to the ground. It was then that Bilbo felt the ground beneath him rumble, as the rest of the company, led by Thorin, charged from the cover of the trees and began attacking the trolls.
Each of the dwarves swung at the trolls with their swords, axes, war hammers, and spears. In the midst of the fighting Bilbo, small enough to go unseen by both trolls and dwarves alike, ran over to free the ponies. After he had used one of the trolls’ own knives to cut the rope and set the ponies free, Bilbo grimaced as he saw Tom pick up Dori and dangle him from his hand, intent on eating him whole.
“Good heavens…” Bilbo breathed, watching as Ori fired his slingshot at the troll’s eye, momentarily blinding him and allowing his older brother to be dropped. Tom snarled at the young dwarf, moving towards him in a blind rage.
“No!” Bilbo cried, rushing to Ori’s aid, blindly swinging the large knife he still held.
Tom yelped as Bilbo struck his leg with the knife and then again as he received another wound to his foot from Dori, eventually falling to the ground clutching his leg in pain.
“Since when do mountain trolls venture this far south?” Bilbo heard Thorin ask Gandalf. It had not been long since Gandalf had come to the company’s rescue and had turned the three trolls to stone.
“Oh, well not for an age...” Gandalf trailed off, looking pensively into the distance. “Not since a darker power ruled these lands.”
Bilbo was brought out of his reverie when he felt a strong hand on his shoulder. Turning around, he was greeted by a timid-looking Dori, who took him to one side into the woods.
“Master Dori,” Bilbo greeted him. “What can I do for you?”
“Please, it’s just Dori, Mister Bilbo,” Dori replied. “And you’ve done enough.”
“Just call me Bilbo.” The hobbit replied, much confused. “What did you want me for again, Dori?”
“Oh, that’s right,” Dori muttered, remembering what he was supposed to be doing. “I’d like to give you something.” He reached behind him and pulled out his flute, the one he had used when the dwarves were singing about ‘blunting his knives’ after they had ransacked his smial. It’s beautiful, Bilbo thought.
“This flute was carved by my own hand. And I’d like you to have it.” Dori passed the flute over to him. “For saving Ori earlier.”
Bilbo took the flute from Dori, admiring its craftsmanship in the light of the dawn. “Dori, it's beautiful.” Dori gave him a beaming smile, happy that his gift had been accepted.
“Thank you, Dori. I really appreciate it.” Bilbo continued.
Dori patted the hobbit on the back happily. “There is no need, Bilbo. You saved my brother’s life today and that is something I will never forget.”
Fili and Kili
“What on earth are you doing here?” Gandalf asks the man dressed in brown, ‘Radagast’ Bilbo believed was his name.
“I was looking for you, Gandalf. Something’s wrong. Something’s terribly wrong.” Radagast replied.
Bilbo was listening in on Gandalf’s conversation with this Radagast fellow until the voice of Kili drew him away.
“Mr. Boggins,” He heard Kili call him, his voice quietened. “Come here.”
Bilbo turned towards the sound of Fili’s voice and saw Fili and Kili beckoning him to come closer. Bilbo jogged over to join the boys at the edge of the clearing, the rest of the company still gathered around the two wizards.
“It’s Baggins Kili, not Boggins.” Bilbo chided, shaking his head. “But you may both call me Bilbo if you like.”
“Very well, Bilbo. And you may call us Fili and Kili.” Fili replied, with Kili nodding his head in agreement a small smile forming on his lips.
“As you wish, boys. Now, what is it you wanted me for?”
The two boys exchanged a look and smiled. “We’d each like to give you a gift.” They said.
“Oh, that’s wonderful!” Bilbo replied. “But whatever for?”
“Let’s just say we appreciate that you didn’t tell Thorin that we lost the ponies back when we faced the trolls a couple of nights ago.” Fili gave Bilbo an appreciative smile and Kili’s expression mirrored his brothers.
Each of the brothers then pulled out Bilbo’s gifts from their packs. Kili’s was a small silver brooch that had a unique pattern across the middle, which was framed by a multitude of precious gems that shone so brightly it made it look like the brooch was telling the story of the sun, moon and all of the stars. Fili’s gift was a thin silver bracelet that also contained a precious gemstone and also had pure gold-threaded in with the silver. The color of the pure gold reminded Bilbo of the color of Fili’s golden locks.
“Oh wow…” Bilbo didn’t know what to say, he was utterly speechless.
“They were crafted by our own hands,” Kili told the hobbit. “We started the metalwork back in Ered Luin before we left for the quest and then we recently came upon some precious gems in the troll hoard.”
Kili handed Bilbo the silver brooch and began talking him through the precious gems and their meanings. “This bright yellow gem is citrine and it represents success and prosperity, that green one there is jade which is meant to protect you from harm, and these three citrus-toned ones are peridot which is meant to instill power and influence in its wearer.”
Bilbo took the brooch and used it as a clasp for the front of his cloak. “Thank you Kili, I will wear it with pride.”
Kili practically beamed with happiness and it was then Fili’s turn to present Bilbo with his gift. “May I?” Fili asked courteously, gesturing towards Bilbo’s wrist.
“Please,” Bilbo replied, allowing Fili to fix the bracelet around his wrist.
Fili then began telling him about the meaning of both the precious metals and precious gems. “The silver is meant to keep bad spirits away from the wearer whereas the gold symbolizes wealth and purity. The precious gem there is a diamond. It is one of the rarest gems and is also supposed to provide the wearer with healing powers.”
“Thank you, Fili,” Bilbo told the elder brother. “I love it and I will wear it with pride also.”
The two princes were about to say something in reply to Bilbo before they were interrupted by a shout from Thorin.
“Warg scouts!” The king shouted in warning. “Which means an orc pack is not far behind!”
Bombur
“Here you are Bombur.” Bilbo crept out of the shadows of one of the hallways near their lodgings in Rivendell, handing Bombur a bag full of burgled food. “Turns out elves do eat meat and have a large stock of it in their kitchens!”
“Good on ye, Bilbo.” Bombur replied, giving Bilbo a light pat on the back. “Did ye manage to grab something for yerself?”
“Unfortunately not, no.”
“Well, then that’s no good!” Bombur exclaimed and began rummaging through his satchel. “Here ye go. Take these, as a gift.”
Bombur handed him some food items including a few pieces of lembas bread, some dried meat, some cheese, and some allspice and cinnamon. “I remember ye saying that hobbits eat seven meals a day so I thought ye might enjoy some snacks!”
“Of course, Bombur. Thank you very much!”
“Don’t ye go telling the others where that came from either, otherwise I’ll be getting hounded!” Bombur laughed, before growing solemn all of a sudden. “I know they are not made by my own hand, but I hope ye can still accept them nonetheless.”
“Nonsense, Bombur!” Bilbo cried. “As a hobbit, I will accept any items of food offered to me. You know what they always say, food is the way to a hobbit's heart!”
Bombur turned a shade of crimson and a blush started to form on Bilbo’s cheeks as well before the pair broke out into laughter a few seconds later.
“Thank ye for cheering me up, Master Burglar. And thank ye for accepting ma gift.” Bombur told the hobbit after the laughter had subsided, accentuating his words with a low bow.
“You’re very welcome, Bombur. Rest assured that I will not breathe a word of this to anyone.” Bilbo replied seriously. “And thank you for raising my spirits as well.”
Nori
Nori found Bilbo relaxing on one of the balconies near their lodgings, admiring the view that the Last Homely House provided.
“Mind if I join you?” Nori asked the hobbit.
“Oh, hello Nori. And yes, of course, you can join me.” Bilbo replied, in between puffs of his pipe. He hadn’t spoken to Nori very much throughout their journey so far, but Nori had always been friendly towards him so Bilbo appreciated his company a lot.
They sat in silence together for a while, until Nori spoke. “Bilbo, I hope you don’t mind but I’d like to give you something. A gift if you will.”
“A gift? Oh, how delightful!” Bilbo turned to face Nori with excited eyes, putting his pipe down.
From behind his back, Nori brought forward his hand and presented Bilbo with a pink, white and yellow flower. The Hobbit recognized it instantly as an alstroemeria[1].
“I was in the library of the elves yesterday and I found a very interesting book about flowers and flower language,” Nori explained. “I read that this flower was the most representative of friendship and good fortune.”
The dwarf tucked the flower behind Bilbo’s ear, blushing all the while, before continuing to explain his choice of gift. “I remember you telling me that hobbits have a very close relationship with nature and that all hobbits are very fond of pretty flowers. So, I hope that you can appreciate this small thing and take it as a token of my friendship.”
By now, Bilbo was blushing as well, looking at Nori with wide eyes. “Thank you ever so much, Nori. Wherever did you find such a pretty thing?”
“I found a secret garden while I was snooping around the place,” Nori told him. “Beautiful it was, it had row upon row of flowers that seemed to go on forever and were all the colors of the rainbow.”
Bilbo was intrigued at this and he very badly wanted to see this garden for himself. “Would you care to take me to this ‘secret garden’ of yours?”
“Right now?” Nori asked.
“Well, of course. Unless you’ve got somewhere else to be…”
“No,” Nori replied quickly, standing up and turning to leave the balcony with Bilbo not far behind him. “Not at all.”
Balin
A few days after his encounter with Nori and the subsequent receiving of a gift and a stroll through a secret garden, Bilbo found himself in Rivendell’s magnificent library.
The library itself was built across two levels, with the upper level acting as a sort of balcony meaning that you could overlook the lower level. There were hundreds of books in this particular library, all ordered on shelves, which were set into a marble alcove that was framed by matching marble pillars. In the middle of the room stood a tall white statue of what Bilbo assumed was an elf, which stood as tall as the two levels as if it was watching over all of those who were present in the library[2].
As Bilbo was investigating the books, and trying to decide which one to read first, Balin entered the library. “Ah, Bilbo! It’s lovely to see you, laddie!”
“And it’s lovely to see you as well, Balin.” Bilbo greeted courteously.
“Found anything of interest?” Balin asked the hobbit, reaching out to inspect some of the titles himself.
“Not yet, unfortunately.” Bilbo sighed, rubbing his hand across his face. “The problem is that most of these books are in elvish. Mind you, I know some Sindarin but certainly not enough to be reading a book written in the language!”
“So you know some Sindarin? How come?” Balin asked Bilbo curiously.
“My mother visited Rivendell a few times throughout her life, she picked up the language quickly enough and was quite well-versed in it by the time I came along. She spent some time teaching me common Sindarin phrases and whatnot but she fell ill and died not long after I came of age so I wasn’t able to learn any more than what I already knew.”
“I’m terribly sorry, laddie,” Balin spoke solemnly. “It must have been very hard losing your ma at such a young age.”
Bilbo, ignoring the painful memories brought up at the mention of his mother’s passing, neglected to reply and instead turned back towards the books and began sifting through them again. “I meant to ask. Was there something you needed me for, Balin?”
“Yes, there is actually. I’d like to give you something.” Balin told him, pulling a small leather-bound book from his satchel and handing it to Bilbo.
The book was simple enough, bound in light brown leather, small, pocket-sized even but had some interesting runes on the cover. Dwarvish runes.
“Kron eron Aulë[3], the runes say, which translates to ‘Book of Aulë’ in Westron,” Balin explained. “It is a book about our maker Aulë, how he created us, dwarves, in his own image, carving us from stone and giving the first of our kin the precious gift of life. I have been translating it from Khuzul into Westron for you to read. The Westron translations are written by my own hand.”
Balin stood proudly in front of Bilbo. “Do you like it?” The white-haired dwarf asked.
“Balin…I love it!” Bilbo exclaimed, excited at the prospect of expanding his knowledge and learning more about dwarven lore. “Thank you ever so much, I will cherish it.”
“Thank you for your kind words, Bilbo. It is an honor for me to be able to share my people’s customs and culture with you.” Balin replied, bowing his head. “I’ll leave you to it then.” And with that, he bid Bilbo farewell and left the library.
Once Balin left, Bilbo plopped down on the nearest seat and opened his new book. He remained in the library for most of the day after that, too invested in the Book of Aulë to put it down until he finally finished it some hours later.
Gloin
“Just try it.” Dori urged his youngest brother.
“I don’t like green food.” Ori insisted, picking up a large piece of lettuce and sniffing it cautiously.
Bilbo chimed in at that, always eager to learn more about his dwarvish friends. “But surely you dwarves eat vegetables sometimes? I read that your diet consists of mostly meat and fish, but surely you can’t just live off of that?”
“Aye, our diet consists of mostly meat and fish with the odd vegetable. So yes we eat them sometimes, but not very often.” Balin told him from his seat on Bilbo’s right.
“That’s very interesting. And I suppose that would be a ‘balanced’ diet for you?” Bilbo continued. “For a hobbit, a balanced diet consists of a little bit of everything, some greens, some meat, some fish, the odd bit of fruit, some carbs on the side.”
“Aye, dwarves can live off meat and fish for sure.” Gloin entered the conversation at that, and Bilbo knew what he was about to say before he even said it, as did the rest of the company it would seem, as many of them rolled their eyes. “Ma wee lad Gimli thrives on a meat diet.”
The company collectively groaned as Gloin pulled out his locket, showing pictures of his wife and son to Bilbo. “Gimli has grown into a fine young dwarf, strong as an ox, swift as an eagle and all from a diet of meat!”
Behind him Bilbo heard some of the elves sniggering and turned towards them, listening closely to their conversation.
“Thír at i norn! Glam plural glamhoth mutant!” One of the elves snickered.
“Hain are ui- revolting!” The other elf agreed with his kin, holding in his laughter.
Bilbo fumed and stood up from his chair at the table, fixing the two elves with a stone-cold stare. “Excuse me! But Gloin’s son is no such thing as a ‘goblin mutant’ as you so eloquently put it!”
“And you!” Bilbo started on the other elf, wagging his finger in the elf’s face. “The two dwarves in those pictures are not revolting, nor anything of the like! Shame on you both for saying such things! Especially in a language in which those you are insulting can’t understand!”
The two elves in question stood still, mouths hanging half-open, giving Bilbo a bewildered stare.
“Cin tád! Leave ammen!” Lord Elrond commanded and the two elves all but scurried away. “I apologize for the actions of my kin, Master Gloin.” Elrond continued. “And Master Bilbo, I thank you for teaching them a noble lesson and for defending your friends and their kin.”
Gloin simply huffed and turned away from Elrond and Bilbo simply nodded in recognition as he sat back down in his chair. “Thank ye, Master Bilbo. You defended mine and ma family’s honor in front o’ those two tree-shaggers, I will never forget it.”
“It was no problem at all, Master Gloin,” Bilbo reassured the dwarf.
“Please, its just Gloin.”
Bilbo nodded in thanks. “And it’s just a Bilbo to you.” Gloin gave the hobbit a gentle smile, before turning his attention back to his plate.
“So Master Burglar...” Oin began from across the table. “How is it that you know how to speak elvish?” Balin chuckled and looked to his left, remembering their short conversation about it in the library the day before.
Bilbo groaned. For the love of dwarves.
As the dwarves continue up the mountain path, Bilbo stops and takes one last look at Rivendell. He’d be lying to himself if he said he didn’t want to stay. Nevertheless, he had spent too much time with this company and was now far too invested in this quest to give up now.
“Master Baggins,” Thorin spoke critically, “I suggest you keep up.”
“Don’t worry,” Gloin reassured the King, placing his hand on Bilbo’s shoulder and turning him around. “I’ve got ‘im.”
Bilbo and Gloin brought up the rear of the company; they walked in silence for some minutes before Gloin spoke. “I’ve been wanting to speak to ye, lad,” Gloin confessed.
“Oh really? What about?” Bilbo replied as they continued walking.
“I wanted ta thank ye fer defending ma wife and ma wee lad Gimli in front of the elves at supper last night.”
“You’re very welcome, Gloin. I don’t believe anyone has the right to be so rude and insulting about anyone else, regardless of race, not least your wife and child.”
“You have ma thanks,” Gloin told the hobbit. “But I’d also like ta give ya this.”
Bilbo was shocked as Gloin held out a small, almost hobbit-sized, axe towards him. “Take it, as a gift and as a token of respect and gratitude for what ye did.”
“I-thank you ever so much, Gloin. I’m not sure what else to say.” Bilbo replied, taking the axe from his newfound friend. It wasn’t nearly as heavy as Bilbo expected it to be, maybe he could even become an expert axe-wielder one day if one of the other dwarves would teach him some moves.
“You needn’t say another word.” Gloin smiled at Bilbo reassuringly, giving him a pat on the back. “Yer acceptance of ma gift is enough.”
Bilbo nodded his head in thanks and put the miniature axe away in his satchel. You know, he thought, maybe it wasn’t a bad idea coming on this adventure after all.
Bofur
Bilbo awoke in the wee hours of the night inside the cave the company was staying in in the misty mountains. After looking around, making sure that everyone else was asleep, Bilbo began to pack his things. He made a mental check-list of all his items so that he wouldn’t forget anything.
Balin’s book, check. Bedroll, check. Nori’s flower (which was now pressed and preserved between the pages of Balin’s book) check. Gloin’s miniature axe, check. Pipe and pipeweed, check. Fili’s bracelet and Kili’s brooch, check. Snacks for the journey, check. Bombur’s spices, check. His jacket, check. And his walking stick, check.
Once all that was done Bilbo stood up quietly and began tiptoeing his way through the sea of dwarves, so as not to wake any of the, up. Bofur, who had taken the first watch, watched as Bilbo tiptoed passed him and reached the entrance to the cave.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Bofur asked Bilbo curiously.
Bilbo turned around to face Bofur, eyes wide like a dear caught in the headlights. “Back to Rivendell.”
Bofur stood up from his watch post and rushed over to the hobbit. “No. No. No. You can’t turn back, now. You’re part of the company. You’re one of us.”
Bilbo sighed, looking down at his large feet. “I’m not though, am I? Thorin said I should never have come. And he was right. I’m not a Took, I’m a Baggins, I don’t know what I was thinking. I should’ve never run out the door.”
Bofur gave Bilbo an empathetic look. “You’re homesick, I understand.”
“No, you don’t!” Bilbo exclaimed as quietly as he could. “You don’t understand, none of you do, you’re dwarves! You’re used to...to this life, to living on the toad, never settling in one place, not belonging anywhere!”
Bilbo’s voice suddenly quietened as he realized what he’d just said. “I’m sorry. I didn’t...”
“No, you’re right. We don’t belong anywhere.” Bofur replied sadly.
Nearby, Thorin curiously watches this exchange unfold from his bedroll. He feels a twinge of regret for his harsh words to the halfing during the thunderstorm.
Bofur continues. “I wish you all the luck in the world. I really do. But before you’d leave I’d like you to have this.”
From his satchel, Bofur reveals a beautiful wooden carving of a fox. “Oh Bofur, this is beautiful...” Bilbo gasped as Bofur pressed the wood carving into his smaller hands.
“I’m glad you like it. It was carved by my own hand. You remind me of a fox. Intelligent, cunning, benevolent, and in touch with nature.”
“I have the perfect place for it on the shelf on top of my hearth back in Bag End,” Bilbo replied, running his fingers over the intricate markings on the wooden animal. “Thank you very much, Bofur.”
Bofur nods his head and pats Bilbo on the shoulder but, as Bilbo turns to leave, Bofur notices a glow emanating from Bilbo’s belt. “What’s that?” He asks the hobbit.
Bilbo takes out his sword and sees that it’s glowing blue, which means orcs or goblins are nearby. At the same time, Thorin sees the floor of the cave begin to crack.
“Wake up! Wake up!” The King shouts, but it is too late.
Suddenly the floor of the cave cracks, tips and slides everyone off into a cavern where they are set upon by goblins.
Oin
“Let me check your injuries,” Oin said to Thorin, joining him and Bilbo on the edge of the Carrock.
“No,” Thorin told him, putting a hand on Bilbo’s shoulder. “Check Bilbo first.”
Bilbo shuddered at hearing the sound of his name on Thorin’s lips, too distracted to argue but smiled up at Thorin nonetheless. “Right,” Oin replied, not willing to dispute orders from his king despite his injuries being worse than Bilbo’s.
“Follow me,” Oin instructed, sitting Bilbo down on the other side of the Carrock.
“There’s really no need,” Bilbo spoke, finally finding his voice as Oin began to lift the back of his shirt.
“Ah,” Oin sighed. “I beg to differ, you’ve been caught by one of the wargs and seem to have taken a nasty blow to the head.”
“Really?” Bilbo asked him, surprised. “I can’t feel anything.” Apart from having a small headache, he didn’t feel a thing. He just felt…numb.
“Aye, sometimes the shock can do that to you,” Oin replied, pulling out a rag to clean Bilbo’s wound.
Bilbo stayed silent for the time it took Oin to clean his wounds and only made a sound of mild irritation when Oin began slathering a cold substance on his injuries.
“Oh!” Bilbo cried. “What is that? It’s so cold!”
Oin held up the jar that contained said cold substance. “It’s a concoction of herbs for healing.”
“Did you make it yourself?” Bilbo asked Oin, curiously.
“Aye, it was made by my own hand.”
Bilbo nodded. “It feels good.” He, after the initial feeling of cold, wore off and the healing balm started to work, his wounds tingling soothingly.
Oin smiled and, after finishing up with the hobbit's injuries, put the lid on the jar of the healing balm and offered it to Bilbo. “Here, take it as a gift.”
“I-thank you, Oin,” Bilbo replied, slightly shocked at the dwarf’s generosity. “But won’t any of the others need this? Especially Thorin.”
“Don’t you worry, lad,” Oin assured him. “There’s plenty more healing herbs where that came from. For now, I hope you will accept my gift.”
“Of course, Oin. Thank you.” Bilbo repeated, taking the healing balm from Oin.
Oin nodded in thanks towards Bilbo before standing up and taking his leave to tend to the rest of the company.
Bifur
It had taken the company nothing short of a day to reach the base of the Carrock, where they had set up camp. After supper, Bilbo sat by the fire warming his hands, when Bifur came over and sat by him
“Hello.” Bilbo greeted, with Bifur nodding his head in response. “Nice night isn’t it?”
Bifur grunted a Khuzul greeting and nodded his head again. The dwarf must have noticed Bilbo’s downtrodden mood, masked by his politeness and niceties, as he pointed at Bilbo and then gestured towards himself making a sad face.
“Oh, I’m sorry Bifur. I promise it’s nothing to do with you.” Bilbo reassured. “It’s just that I lost my pipe in the goblin tunnels, and I like to smoke to clear my mind you see...” Somehow, Bilbo’s satchel, along with all of his gifts, had managed to remain intact throughout the journey through the goblin tunnels. Though, his pipe had been misplaced somewhere in the midst of all of the fighting.
Bifur made a sympathetic noise but then his face broke out into a wide smile, as if in recognition. “What is it, Bifur?” Asked the hobbit.
From his pack, Bifur pulled out an intricately-carved wooden pipe and make a noise of excitement as he offered it to Bilbo. The pipe itself was humbly crafted, long and thin and its defining feature was the labyrinth of carvings which covered the pipe in its entirety. Upon later inspection, Bilbo realized that the carvings on the pipe were a reflection of himself and contained several of Bilbo’s favorite plants, flowers, and animals.
“Oh my, Bifur…” Bilbo gasped, gently taking the pipe from the dwarf’s hands. “You made this yourself?”
Bifur said something in Khuzul and made a gesture with his hands. He then took Bilbo’s hands, which still held the wooden pipe, and pushed them inwards so that they were pushed up against Bilbo’s chest. Bilbo understood Bifur’s meaning. “It-Its for me?”
Bifur nodded and clapped his hands at Bilbo’s understanding. “Thank you very much, Bifur,” Bilbo said. “I will treasure it very much.”
And with that Bifur pulled out his own pipe, with Bilbo providing the pipeweed, and together they spent the rest of the evening smoking and enjoying each other’s company.
Ori
The next night saw Ori joining Bilbo by the fireside, albeit their camp was now about 6 miles further down the road than their camp had been the night before.
“Hello, Ori.” Bilbo greeted the young dwarf.
“Hello,” Ori replied. “How are you doing, Master Burglar?”
“Please, call me Bilbo.” Bilbo began, continuing after Ori nodded in response. “And I’m doing well, thank you. How are you?”
“I am well also.” Ori, ever timid, hesitated for a moment. “If I may, Bilbo, I’d like to give you a gift.”
“A gift?”
“Yes, a gift. A token of my friendship and appreciation.” Ori told him, handing Bilbo a piece of parchment with a drawing on it.
Bilbo examined the parchment, which contained a drawing of himself. “Ori, this is beautiful! You have great skill!”
“Thank you, Bilbo. I drew it last night when you were sitting warming your hands by the fire.” Ori told him. “I’ve been wanting to gift you for a while but I was unsure of what to give you.”
“Oh, Ori thank you very much for this gift. I will treasure it.” Bilbo said, clutching the drawing to his chest.
“I am very glad to see you accept my gift, Bilbo. I hope to have your answer soon.” Ori bowed courteously to Bilbo before scurrying away to the other side of the camp.
Answer? Bilbo wondered, an answer to what? Bilbo huffed; it must just be a dwarven thing. He made a mental note to ask someone about it later.
Dwalin
A few days later and the company had reached the house of Beorn, the skin-changer. Beorn’s house was beautiful, located in the middle of a vast meadow. It reminded Bilbo of Bag End somewhat. Though Beorn was wary of them at first, his hatred of dwarves bubbling to the surface, at long last he had agreed to help the company in any way that he could.
Bilbo, meanwhile, was simply enjoying being able to sleep under a solid roof again after many months of journeying and sleeping on the ground with not so much as a tent or canopy to protect him from the elements. The hobbit smiled to himself, for once happy with the company’s accommodations for the night, and stretched his sleepy muscles from where he lay in Beorn’s barn.
“Did ye have a nice rest?” Dwalin asked from his position across from Bilbo. He was sat up against the wall polishing his two axes, Grasper and Keeper they were called because ‘This one grasps your soul, and this one keeps it’ so Dwalin had said.
“I did indeed,” Bilbo replied, sitting upright. “And you?”
“Aye, I did. Thanks, fer askin’.”
The pair shifted into an awkward silence as Dwalin went back to polishing his weapons and Bilbo sat there watching him, unsure of what to do.
“Master Baggins,” Dwalin began, his voice cutting through the silence.
“Please, call me Bilbo.” The hobbit told him.
“As ye wish, Bilbo.” Dwalin amended, nodding in acceptance. “I’d like ta give ye something.” Dwalin reached into his belt and pulled out a beautiful silver dagger, its hilt encrusted with precious gemstones that Bilbo recognized to be rubies.
“I’m ashamed ta say that I misjudged ye from the beginning, Bilbo. I agreed with Thorin, in believing that ye shouldn’t have come and that ye had no place with us. I was so very wrong, and I apologize. It wasn’t until after we escaped the goblin tunnels and I saw ye defend Thorin and stand between him and that Orc filth that I realized your true worth.”
Dwalin took a deep breath before continuing. “That is why I’d like ta give ye this dagger, crafted by my own hand, in hopes that ye can accept it as a token of my apologies, my companionship, and my utmost respect.” Dwalin held the dagger out towards Bilbo. “Please, take it.”
Bilbo reached out and took the dagger from Dwalin, his eyes shining with unshed tears at Dwalin’s moving speech. “I thank you for your kind words, Dwalin. I will accept your gift. You are forgiven for doubting me, I would have doubted me too.”
Dwalin met Bilbo’s gaze then, his eyes also harboring tears, and he smiled brightly at the hobbit before him. Bilbo had never seen Dwalin smile at all so far on their journey but, for the smile Dwalin gave him, it was more than well worth the wait.
Bilbo and Dwalin moved forward and enveloped one another in a tight hug. “Thank you.” Was all Dwalin said.
Thorin
Bilbo sighed from his perch atop a hay bale at the back of Beorn's house, admiring the garden. Beorn’s garden contained a handsome selection of both flora and fauna. The animals he kept included horses, dogs, bees, and cows, among others, and his garden was littered with brightly colored flowers. Though, most of the garden was covered with clover (grown by Beorn for his bees, so Gandalf had told him).
“Bilbo?” He heard someone call his name.
“Over here!” Bilbo replied, turning around to see that it was Thorin. The dwarf was holding a particularly delicious-looking and delicious-smelling food item.
“I thought you might care for a bite to eat,” Thorin said to the hobbit, sitting down next to him on the hay and handing him some of the food he’d brought.
“Thank you,” Bilbo told Thorin earnestly, before taking a bite of his food. “Wow…this is wonderful!”
Thorin chuckled. “Yes, I thought you might like it. I remember you mentioned that hobbits have a bit of a sweet tooth.”
“You remember rightly,” Bilbo replied, around a mouthful of the food. “What is it, may I ask?”
“Beorn made it for us using his own homemade honey. He called them ‘honeycakes’.”
“Honeycakes,” Bilbo said slowly, the syllables rolling off of his tongue. “Well, I love them.”
The pair continued eating their honeycakes for a few minutes, with Bilbo somehow managing to scoff two of them, before Thorin resumed their easy conversation. Easy that is, until now.
“I saw that you have been receiving gifts from members of the company,” Thorin commented, Bilbo only hummed in response. “So, I wonder, who have you chosen to court?”
Bilbo spluttered. “I beg your pardon? Court?”
“Yes, court.” Thorin looked puzzled. “If a dwarf presents you with a gift it means they are asking for your hand. Apart from Bombur and Gloin of course as they both already have an intended back in Ered Luin.”
“Oh. Oh my.” Bilbo put a hand to his head, he felt faint, dizzy. So that’s what Ori wanted an answer to, Bilbo thought bitterly.
“Bilbo? Are you alright?” Thorin asked gently, placing his large hand on Bilbo’s back to support him.
“I-I didn’t know.” Bilbo started. “I didn’t know that’s what the gifts meant, I only thought they were a token of friendship.”
“Mahal.” Thorin cursed under his breath. “What are you going to tell the company? Who will you choose to court?”
“I don’t want to court any of them!” Bilbo exclaimed.
“You must...It is a great dishonor to reject a dwarf's courting gift in the case that you choose no one.” Thorin explained, looking solemnly at the ground. “Would you truly not have any of them?”
“It’s not that Thorin, I-“ Bilbo closed his eyes and inhaled. Well, it’s now or never I suppose, he thought grimly. “There’s only one dwarf I want, and he hasn’t given me a gift yet.”
Bilbo turned to look at a shell shocked Thorin, the hobbit's eyes glistening with unshed tears. “I-but-“ Thorin was gobsmacked. “Why me? Why not one of the others...they are all so attractive in comparison.”
“Thorin...do you not consider yourself attractive?” Bilbo asked tentatively.
Thorin looked to be on the verge of tears as he continued. “No. I’m considered by many to be...ugly. In our culture dwarves like Nori, Bofur, Oin, Dori, and even Balin are considered to be the most attractive.”
“Oh, Thorin.” Bilbo sighed sadly, grasping hold of Thorin’s large hands in both of his. “To me you are beautiful. You are like a cool breeze on a hot summer day, like the sight of home after you’ve been gone a while and even like that oddly satisfying crunch when you step on some leaves.”
Bilbo chucked at his analogies. “So you see, Thorin? You are so beautiful, and you are the only dwarf I’d ever want to spend the rest of my life with.”
Thorin held Bilbos gaze, as the world around him seemed to crumble and rebuild itself around the small creature in front of him. “No ones ever called me beautiful before.” He confessed.
“Well, they have now.” Bilbo hiccuped, happy tears now running down his cheeks.
Thorin raised both of Bilbo’s hands to his lips and planted a kiss on each of his knuckles. “I think you’re beautiful as well, Bilbo.”
Bilbo blushed at Thorin’s statement, attempting to convey the love he felt for the dwarf in his gaze. “Thank you, Thorin,” Bilbo replied, still sniffling.
“Since all is said and done I’d like to give you something. A gift.” Thorin’s eyes twinkled in the light of the setting sun, as he let go of Bilbo’s hands and took one the beads off of one of the braids that framed his face.
“Upon accepting this gift of my own making, you will accept my invitation to enter a courtship with you and become my consort.” Thorin inhaled deeply. “Bilbo Baggins, do you accept this gift and agree to become my consort?”
“I accept.” Bilbo declared happily.
“May I?” Thorin asked courteously gesturing towards Bilbo’s hair, reminding Bilbo of Fili when he had given Bilbo his bracelet.
“Of course.” Bilbo agreed, allowing Thorin to put a courtship braid into his hair.
“There we are,” Thorin spoke after he had finished the braid, holding it in place using the bead he had just gifted to Bilbo. “Now, how are we going to explain this to the rest of the company?”
Bilbo smiled, pulling Thorin downwards to lay with him on the hay bale. “We’ll face them in the morning. For now, let’s just rest.”
I see our King has claimed you for himself,” Dwalin grumbled, having spotted the bead and the courtship braid when the company sat down at the table for breakfast the next morning.
“It would seem that he has,” Bilbo replied matter-of-factly, smiling to himself as the rest of the company looked on.
Thorin watched his hobbit with rapt fascination from the corner of the room, meeting the eyes of each member of the company who dared to look his way. His hobbit. His consort. Finally.