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the hunger of dragons is slow to wake (but hard to sate)

Summary:

Bilbo Baggins was a very unhappy Hobbit at the current moment. And it all had to do with the fact that she had made it all the way through this adventure to the Lonely Mountain, through Rivendell and the goblin caves, through riddles and dragons to stand at the gates of Erebor, retaken and given back to the dwarves who loved the mountain best.

She had made it through all of that hardship, and now her courses were due to start and she had no herbs to halt it.

Goddamn it.

Notes:

I swear, one of these days I will manage to catch up and stay caught up. Here's Day 16!

I definitely modified Writing Prompt #2109 by @promptsforthestrugglingauthor over on tumblr (speaking of which, if you haven't checked out their page you totally should), but I think it turned out just as well as I wanted it to!

Enjoy some (sort of) dragon Thorin!

Title Quote by Ursula K LeGuin

Work Text:

Bilbo Baggins was a very unhappy Hobbit at the current moment. And it all had to do with the fact that she had made it all the way through this adventure to the Lonely Mountain, through Rivendell and the goblin caves, through riddles and dragons to stand at the gates of Erebor, retaken and given back to the dwarves who loved the mountain best.

She had made it through all of that hardship , and now her courses were due to start and she had no herbs to halt it .

Goddamn it.

Bilbo huffed in annoyance as her hand went to brush her grown out hair from her shoulders, hair she had cut short just before the dwarves had arrived at Bag End. Bilbo had always had long curly hair, blonde and shiny like silk. It was Bilbo’s pride and joy, and it reminded her of her mother in all the best ways.

Growing up, Bilbo was Belladonna in miniature - the wild, curly blonde hair, the impish turn to the mouth, the upturned nose, the love of adventure. And Bilbo had loved every second of it , had thrived under the attention and love that her mother gave her as they wreaked mischief all over Hobbiton. 

And when her mother died…Bilbo couldn’t handle looking in the mirror and seeing the similarities every single day. So she cut it short, as short as her father’s hair before he died, as short as a male hobbit’s. And it was only once she had done so that she found the similarities to her father .

Bungo Baggins was respectable, yes, not wild like his wife. But he cherished her wildness, and fostered it in Bilbo as well. Bilbo saw her father’s commitment in the shape of her eyes, saw his deep love and quiet support in the deep green of her irises, and that was how she knew she would accompany the dwarves to Erebor to help them take their home back.

Her father’s commitment, her mother’s adventure. Bilbo could do no less to honor their memories.

But now with a headache pounding at her temples and cramps roiling in her gut, Bilbo was decidedly less than happy that she had joined a company of all male dwarves. There was no one she could ask for just some of their herbs, and she would be damned if she was going to ask Oin if he had any. Even if he was a healer, there were just some things female hobbits didn’t talk to males about, and this was one of them.

Bilbo sighed heavily and pressed a hand to her throbbing forehead, sweat beading at her brow as she stared over the ramparts. The Arkenstone sat heavily in her pocket, as heavily as the fog and gloom sat over the remains of LakeTown, and as heavy as the knowledge of her impending courses sat in her stomach.

“Master Baggins,” a deep voice called out, and Bilbo whirled around to face the wan visage of the dwarven King Under the Mountain.

“Thorin,” Bilbo murmured, fingers twisting in the fabric at the bottom of her jacket. “To what do I owe the pleasure of a visit from the King Under the Mountain?”

“Why do you stand here, surveying our enemies? The very ones who aim to steal our treasure?” Thorin continued like she hadn’t even spoken, and Bilbo’s mouth twisted as a strong pain spiked in her stomach.

“Enemies? Thorin, they’re victims . They suffered under Smaug just like you, suffered in the Desolation that followed,” Bilbo snapped irritatedly, her annoyance with her body and the situation getting the best of her.

“You dare sympathize with them?” Thorin accused, stepping toward her menacingly. There was something fever bright and dangerous in his eyes, something aggressive that Bilbo had never seen before. “They tried to keep us from the mountain. They want nothing more than the treasure that lives within the mountain. Without the Arkenstone…”

Thorin trailed off, his eyes tracking toward the horizon, and Bilbo grimaced as she stepped back slowly, trying to put space between them.

“Master Baggins,” Thorin started again, and Bilbo barely stopped rolling her eyes in response. It was a quirk of these dwarves to address her as master. In the beginning, Bilbo had tried to clarify that she was a woman, but had quickly given it up as a lost cause. It really wasn’t any issue of hers if they addressed her as master or lady or mistress or whatever, so she just let it ride.

“Master Baggins, are you ignoring me? ” Thorin asked, and for just a moment Bilbo heard a shade of the Thorin from the quest, the twist of wry humor that Bilbo had gotten to see on late night watches and in quiet moments where they passed the time in easy comfort. She looked back toward him in cautious hope, only to see that feverish light still in his eyes. “You dare ignore your king?”

“Not my king,” Bilbo replied automatically, and watched Thorin’s shoulders tense as he stepped even further into her space. Swallowing, Bilbo looked up at the dwarven king nervously.

“I am your king , Master Baggins,” Thorin all but growled, using his larger frame to impose on her space. “You are part of my Company, you are in my mountain, and I am your King .”

“Step back , Thorin,” Bella stated forcefully, refusing to shrink away from him. “Don’t pretend that you care about whether or not I call you my king. The only thing you care about is the Arkenstone, so why don’t you go back to your search?”

Bilbo eased past him and walked down the ramparts, intent on finding some cloth to rip up for her courses that she could feel coming on like a freight train. But just as she was about to be free of Thorin and off on her way, the dwarf grasped her wrist in an iron grip and yanked her back toward him.

Bilbo gasped in shock and stumbled, pressing into Thorin chest to chest. And staring up into his eyes, Bilbo saw that light flicker in confusion as she felt blood finally escape her.

Her monthly courses had started in earnest.

“...Master…Baggins?” Thorin asked confusedly, his other hand coming up to rest on the curve of her hip. Bilbo inhaled in shock as Thorin traced her hip and waist with a questing hand, his eyes switching between something dark and hungry and bright and manic.

“Thorin…” Bilbo breathed. “Let me go.”

“But…you’re not…” Thorin continued, one thumb stroking the delicate skin of her wrist and the other grasping her hip possessively. Bilbo looked up nervously, only to see Thorin’s eyes completely consumed by his pupils, no trace of that fey light left in his gaze. Instead, there was something so hot and simmering and Bilbo’s mouth went dry. “You’re a woman,” Thorin breathed, his face dipping toward hers.

“Well spotted,” Bilbo replied drily, shifting in discomfort. Her cramps doubled, tripled in intensity as blood started flowing, and all she wanted was to get away and take care of herself. 

“And you didn’t think this was important enough to tell me, to tell us , before?” Thorin continued, his grip on her wrist shifting to tight enough to bruise .

“I tried telling you all multiple times,” Bella sighed, trying in vain to tug her wrist from his grip. “But you all cut me off every time I tried, so I just let it go. It wasn’t important, and I knew I could handle myself.”

“But…Miss Baggins, you should never have…” Thorin tried to say, and Bilbo had enough . Snatching her wrist back from his, Bilbo pushed back on his chest to escape his orbit, making her way down the ramparts as quickly as possible. She could hear Thorin’s heavy footsteps follow behind her, and Bella bit down on a sob at the sound.

“Leave me alone, Thorin!” she yelled, but she couldn’t evade him quickly enough. Thorin grabbed her once more and spun her so her back was to the wall, boxing her in with his sturdy frame.

“Miss Baggins,” Thorin’s voice hissed on the s, and Bilbo’s blood went cold in her veins. She understood, now, why that light in Thorin’s eyes unsettled her so, why it seemed so familiar to her.

It was the hiss of Smaug in his tone, the tinge of dragon sickness .

Bilbo’s heart sank to her stomach.

“Miss Baggins,” Thorin repeated, drawing out the s of her name. “Now that I know who you truly are , you know you must be kept safe .” The feverish light was back in Thorin’s eyes, and Bilbo blanched at the possessive intent she found there.

“Such a rare treasure as you must be protected ,” Thorin hummed, leaning in and skimming his nose up the line of her throat. Bilbo’s heart pounded furiously in her chest as she stilled like prey in the presence of a predator.

“I shall drip you in jewels,” Thorin promised, breath flame-hot on her skin. “You shall be the most beautiful creature to behold. A woman is always a prize, but you, Bilbo Baggins…you will shine .”

Bilbo barely suppressed the scream that so badly wanted to come out. Thorin was saying everything she had fantasized about on the quest but had never thought to see come to fruition; the way his thumb caressed the thin veins of her wrist, the feel of his breath on her skin was like a dream come to life.

But the way he said it…the way his touch was possessive rather than reverential, his words about how she would look in jewels and not of how he felt for her…

Bilbo would be just another part of his hoard , not a partner, not a wife. And Bilbo had lived too long and turned down too many marriage proposals of convenience to settle for being nothing more than a pretty bauble Thorin could take off the shelf and admire every once in a while.

Bilbo swallowed thickly, and made her mind up. With brute force, Bilbo slammed her foot down atop Thorin’s and shoved the dwarf away from her once more. As he screamed in pain, Bilbo scrambled down the ladder and tore off into the mountain.

“You can run, Bilbo Baggins!” Thorin roared from the ramparts. “But I will find you, and you will be mine!”

And as blood ran down Bilbo’s leg and tears leaked from her eyes, she could only wish that Gandalf would show up soon . She didn’t think she could live a life as nothing more than a hoard, a new Arkenstone to polish off Thorin’s crown.

But she didn’t know how long she could manage to outrun the new dragon of the mountain.

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