Chapter Text
Not for lack of trying, but in his defense, Nori hadn’t exactly gone looking for the book.
Rather, he’d gone looking for his wayward Hobbit; Bilbo had been making himself scarce for the last couple of days- both of them finding their schedules unusually full for the time of year. During the day, he’d only barely managed to sit down with his One for their midday meal before being whisked off on official guild business.
There was still far too much to prepare for in regard to their plans of the prospective guild entrants and their initiation; every second of the day required careful preparation in order to prevent anything from going wrong. Despite Thorin’s ascension to the throne being as clear-cut as could be, there were still those dwarrow who would see him- or the rest of the royal family- dead. Far too many of the nobles seemed to think their grovelling would somehow shield their true motives.
This initiation in particular included Thorin’s- and the rest of the royal family’s- involvement, and thus, needed even more secrecy than usual.
He sidestepped a handful of aforementioned nobles on his way, finally making it to Bilbo’s study. The heavy oak doors opened on greased hinges, revealing the sight of his Hobbit leaning over the gleaming wood of his desk, features peaceful in slumber as his golden curls haloed with the candle-glow behind him.
Nori felt his features soften.
Bilbo had been so tirelessly working on his as-of-yet-untitled book he’d been writing since the day they’d reclaimed the Lonely Mountain back from Smaug. Though he knew he’d never admit it, Nori could see that it brought his Hobbit some measure of peace to put pen and paper and chronicle the events of their quest.
Rather than wake him, Nori paused in his step before deciding to let him be. Bilbo needed the rest as it was; never mind the day to come on the horizon.
He blinked as he carefully leaned over, taking in the neat rows of his One’s handwriting inked onto the pages. It only took a couple of lines for the thief to realize Bilbo had just finished detailing the relief that he had felt once they’d stepped into the mountain; before things had turned so terribly, terribly wrong.
The mere thought of that time made Nori shudder.
Carefully, he lifted the leather-bound tome into his hands, retreating to the chair Bilbo had designated for him whenever the mood struck him to keep the Hobbit company whilst he worked on his version of the manuscript of their quest.
Really, the only truly impartial copy of their quest belonged solely to Ori. The scribe had been officially tasked with its care in the library’s halls with Balin’s recommendation that he be the one to personally complete it for the generations to come. It would be a document that would survive generations- detailing everything from the stirrings of rumors in Ered Luin to the Shire and beyond. It even included the less desirable moments of their company; particularly those of the gold madness that had struck nearly all of them down and caused them to act out in ways that brought shame to their names.
A cautionary tale if there ever was one, serving to warn the future descendants to the dangers of the Arkenstone and the madness that dogged the line of Durin.
The soft leather shifted only slightly as Nori’s weight settled into the armchair, fingers tracing the filigree of the inlaid citrine idly as he made himself comfortable.
Under most other circumstances, he would not be nearly so eager to risk his neck by going through Bilbo’s belongings, let alone any of his writings. After one rather memorable, loud incident- in which Nori’s unfortunate curiosity got the better of him- an agreement had been struck in that unless it had been left out on his desk, Nori was not to be rummaging through Bilbo’s things.
It was an exchange he was more than willing to make to avoid Bilbo’s wrath again.
The Hobbit… could truly be terrifying when he so desired.
Rather than dwell on it, Nori flipped through the growing number of pages to the beginning. He’d been allowed to proof-read a great deal of his One’s notes, and while he certainly wasn’t a scribe like Ori, he did have some measure of skill in the area.
“To say I was taken aback by the wizard Gandalf appearing at the doorstep of my mother’s sister and my cousins at Bag End would be nothing short of a lie. The wizard- Mithrandir to the elves and Tharkun to dwarrow- had more than a simple reputation as a bumbling old Man, and every Hobbit had such a thing ingrained into them as faunts. Myself included, I would admit-“
Hm. Too far back?
Nori knew that this was shortly prior to the company of dwarrow on Mirabella Took’s doorstep; to which the elderly Hobbit woman had been nothing but fierce in her vicious feeding of them. Spiteful, one could call it. Indeed, Bilbo had recalled the incident with some amusement- a Hobbit was only as good as their hospitality. While it was true in many cases, it could be more and less so when it came to Tooks. Prideful they may be, they were also more than a little spiteful, and would absolutely do something in order to get the upper hand over another.
He flipped ahead to the next chapter marker.
“-It was the first I would meet Nori, son of Ri beyond the walls of Ered Luin and without the guise of my other persona to shield me. Of course, I knew who he was; I was not so foolish as to flaunt my identity so freely as he.
I will admit, however, to stirring up some mischief. He had caused me enough grief in Ered Luin, after all, and I will also admit to being rather my mother’s son.”
Yes, this was the right page.
The first time Nori had met Bilbo Baggins-Took, it went without saying that it could definitely have gone better. It could also have gone worse, to be fair. The first time they had met one another without the pretence of being thieves in the streets of Ered Luin, the cheeky Hobbit had the audacity to dangle Nori’s stolen pipe from his fingers, offering the dwarf a jaunty wink before pocketing it from across his aunt’s dinner table.
(It had not actually been the first time they had met. Nor the second, third or even fourth. As he later had been enlightened to. It turned out they’d had… well, a lot of close encounters.)
And that was excluding the tales of the mild-mannered Halfling he’d heard for the better part of a decade from his siblings. It made coming to terms with the same thief he’d been doggedly attempting to unveil for the same amount of time even more difficult. How had he not been able to see it?
At the time, it had been rather insulting. He was an inquisitive dwarrow at heart; it was something his Amad had often said in laughing tones as she carded her warm hands through his unruly mane of ginger locks as they sat before the hearth in the cool evenings. Wherever there was a puzzle, a mystery, some unsolvable conundrum, sure as the sun rise Nori would be close behind.
And oh, how the Hobbit had puzzled him for the first weeks of their journey. Where Bilbo was nimble fingers and sly smirks around Nori, he was nothing but a quiet, warm presence to the others of their company. The sneaky Hobbit had even managed to charm Thorin- Thorin! The most suspicious, distrusting dwarrow west of the Misty Mountains, save perhaps Nori and Dwalin.
It was rather difficult to outshine a master thief and a royal guard.
(That, too, had been quite the conversation. Discovering Bilbo and Balin knew and had been friends for some number of years had knocked the guard back a couple of steps in judging character. Not even he had suspected there was anything amiss with the unassuming halfling.)
The only one in their company who had been completely unruffled by the news that Bilbo’s alternate identity was as a thief- or burglar, depending on which member of the company one asked- was Bifur. The grizzled dwarf only grinned wolfishly as the astounded chaos broke out, signing something that had both contributed and paused the arguing. It was hard to tell whether it was more due to the fact that Bilbo could understand Iglishmek or the fact that their supposedly hidden language was offset with a number of unfamiliar hand motions.
Signs that Bilbo was apparently intimately familiar with, if the look on his face had been any indication.
Hmm. While he was thinking on it…
Nori flipped ahead to the moment in question.
“-I knew I could only keep my secrets for so long. The trolls simply gave me ample opportunity to reveal myself in such a way they could not deny. Grocer my arse- the day Thorin-bloody-Oakenshield decided to insult me was the very same I vowed to prove him wrong. Alas, I’m afraid my pride won out in that event.
Luckily for me that trolls aren’t terribly known for their intelligence. I was able to free the ponies before returning to try and discover what had brought them down from the higher grounds.
Even luckier that Fili and Kili had heeded my words and retrieved the rest of the company, lest I end up in one of the trolls’ bellies. Mind, the tongue-lashing I received from Bifur more than made up for anything else I could think of on my own, the chaos following the slip that I had taught Bifur some Hobbit signs.”
To the point, as always.
Clearly, this was the version of events Bilbo was going to be submitting to the library. His notes had distinctly included some other, less than savory thoughts about every member of the company.
Despite it, Nori remembered clearly the ease in which Bilbo had taken all of their criticism and turned it around on them without them realizing it. Sharp tongued, their Hobbit was. It was so strange to see how easily the small creature shrugged and admitted it had been him thieving from the Men’s settlements, redistributing the wealth to those who most direly needed it in the Blue Mountains.
Even stranger to see how little the Hobbit cared of the treasure he stole; he had admitted, under the quiet skies in the Last Homely House, that he preferred to come by his own wealth honestly. Hobbits cared little for riches- most of their possessions came from inheritance or their own hands. In Bilbo’s situation, it came from growing produce.
The Shire-folk were creatures of the earth and soil, crafted lovingly by their Lady Yavanna to tend to the earth as she did. Thus, they were able to coax even the most damaged soil back to life and even flourish.
The barren, charred wasteland Smaug had left the Lonely Mountain proved to meet its match with one determined Hobbit, Nori mused, flipping slowly through the pages. Small, detailed illustrations from both Ori and Bilbo decorated the pages, studies of flowers and other plants the thief recalled Bilbo plucking from the ground and tucking carefully into his notebook.
Bilbo shifted with a soft snuffle in his sleep.
Nori froze, mind snapping to the present with a sharp clarity that nearly startled him. Glancing over the edge of the book, he waited to see if his One would stir or return to sleep.
After several moments, Bilbo let out a soft sigh before settling again.
“There are times I wonder if I’m the only one in this company with a whit of sense. I wonder if Gandalf has become addled with time- the look upon his face when I pointed out that I would hardly be the best decision to confront a drake since I’ve lived in Ered Luin for the majority of my adult life! At the very best, Smaug would deem me a thief, a threat or a liar. Perhaps all three. In any case, it will certainly be an experience to see whether or not I’ll survive the encounter.
Nevertheless, I couldn’t help but laugh at the situation. None of them even considered the possibility of Smaug recognizing the scent of dwarf that lingers upon my being. If they truly wanted to have a chance, they should have allowed me to travel alone to the mountain.”
To be fair, there weren’t exactly many (if any) other Hobbits would even remotely able to be persuaded into joining a harebrained scheme such as theirs. Never mind keep their composure throughout the great number of things they’d encountered before even making it to the Misty Mountains.
“Are you enjoying yourself, dear?”
“You left it out.” Nori replied automatically, closing the tome as he moved to place it back on the desk. “It’s a good thing you’re in favor with the Line of Durin, or most of that book would be seen as treason.”
“Thorin wouldn’t dare.” Bilbo scoffed, stretching leisurely. “Not after we ensured he regained the crown.”
He quirked a brow, a smile tugging at the corner of his lip.
“Alright, fine. It still counts as treason.” Bilbo acquiesced. “But treason from a place of caring.”
“Madtubirzul, what am I to do with you?” Nori sighed, unable to keep the fondness from his tone.
“Promise to take a day after the initiation so that I might actually see you for longer than a half hour?” Bilbo requested. “All of the nonsense going on in this mountain makes me miss the dwarf I decided to marry.”
“Of course.” He softened. “It’s only one day. Then we won’t have to worry about it for another year.”
“There’s always something that could go wrong.” The Hobbit pointed out with a sigh, propping his chin up with a hand. The thin gold band on his finger gleamed in the soft light. “There’s hardly any question that this is most assuredly the most effective way to weed out those who truly want to join the guild, but it certainly keeps the rest of us busy in preparation for the days beforehand.”
“I had to convince the princes to stay in the royal wing for the events tomorrow.” Nori groaned, draping himself over Bilbo’s back and shoulders with a dramatic sigh. “I suspect Ori’s presence is the only reason they won’t be causing trouble.”
“He’s certainly managed to reign those two in.” the Hobbit agreed, pulling his book from Nori’s hands and tucking it into line with a handful of other books. Most of them notes that had yet to be rewritten in the large red leather tome. “If nothing else, we may have to convince Thorin and Dwalin to allow him access to their rooms simply to keep them from getting into anything they shouldn’t. Is Dis still planning on returning from Ered Luin next season?”
The crown princess had been travelling between Erebor and Ered Luin- her duties as a member of the Line of Durin bound her to her people in the west. She had been on one of the first caravans from the Blue Mountains following the liberation of the Lonely Mountain, yet also one of the first to return. Too many matters to attend to, arrangements to be made to appoint another to watch over the settlement in her stead.
“My sources suggest yes.” Nori nodded against the crown of curls. Bilbo’s hair smelled faintly of lavender and other herbs from their little garden the Hobbit tended on their balcony. “The ravens have been bringing word of everything going as planned.”
“And the Hobbits?”
“They’ve been offered compensation for their continued assistance to farm the lands in the mountains.” He informed his One. “Your cousin Primula in particular is… enthusiastic.”
“Mmm.” Bilbo hummed. “How long have you been here?”
“Long enough to know that my One is beautiful enough to rival the finest treasures in Erebor.” Nori replied immediately. Even after several years, he found it hard not to shower his Hobbit with the praise he deserved.
“Your One is exhausted from dealing with all the preparations for tomorrow.” Bilbo returned drily. “Come on, let’s get to bed. I’d rather sleep there than here- Yavanna only knows how stiff my joints would be come morning.”
“Whatever you desire, my love.” Nori bowed low, dramatic. A moment later he swept his Hobbit into his arms, ignoring the indignant squeal he let out before going limp. There were some fights that he could pick, and one against Nori’s need to cater to his One’s every need… was not going to be one of them.
Still, he could dream.