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A Family Dinner Gone Awry

Summary:

Bilbo encourages the Company to enjoy a hobbit meal about once a month when the nature of some of their bets come to light. The former burglar comes out to retirement to unearth this mysterious last bet placed on him and Thorin...

Notes:

This is part of my project to repost all of my one-shots that were previously stored in collections. There's a chance you may have read this one-shot as part of the "99 Problems But Our Love Ain't One" collection. If that's the case, I hope you enjoy this fic again. Otherwise, thank you for clicking!

If you haven't already, feel free to check out my tumblr and say hi!

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Bilbo had this very optimistic and yet seemingly unrealistic expectation that after they finally reclaimed Erebor, everything would finally slow down. It didn’t. He has just come to accept almost a year after the great battle, that this was just how dwarves were. Busy as bees in a hive, each of them had their own niche, and they immediately took to it the moment Thorin gave the approval on the Reconstruction Plan. Honestly, it made Bilbo feel rather lazy when he wanted to enjoy his book by the fire into the late morning, or go for a walk down in Dale rather than assisting Ori in the library or Bombur in the kitchens. However, for as much as Bilbo accepted their “dwarvishness”, they seemed to accept that there were certain hobbit traditions Bilbo refused to give up. One of those being family dinners, which he forced the entire Company to attend at least once every month.

Bilbo just wished sometimes it didn’t come with a nostalgia kick. However, such is the way of family dinners. It had been no exception in the Shire, and Bilbo would be hard pressed to muster true irritation as the dwarves revised their catchy ditty of ‘That’s What Bilbo Baggins Hates’. Laughter rang around the table upon completion, and even Thorin gave a hearty chuckle from beside him. Bilbo shot him a look, but the king just smiled and kissed Bilbo’s hand that he had been holding practically all night. Two months into their courtship, Bilbo had learned quickly the possessive need of dwarven partners to play moon-eyed lovestruck fools. Bilbo would be lying to say that he hated it, but it wouldn’t be good for his propriety not to play up just a small amount of fuss at the public display.

“Oh Bilbo.” Bofur sighed with a jolly grin. “Where would you be without us?”

“Where would I be ?” The hobbit scoffed. “I would be doing just fine in my warm, safe smial. You lot, on the other hand, would have been eaten by trolls.”

There were several exclamations or, to Bilbo’s displeasure, dinner rolls thrown in his direction at that.

“One could point out we wouldn’t have been captured by trolls had you not gotten yourself in trouble first.” Gloin pointed out.

Bilbo shot Fili and Kili a look and the princes ducked their heads sheepishly. Bilbo’s promise to keep the secret of what really happened that night was what had finally endeared the boys to him, and Bilbo wasn’t about to ruin that now. Even if Thorin noticed and shot Bilbo a questioning look.

“But we would still be at the mercy of the Elf King if not for you.” Balin pointed out.

That was a statement everyone could agree with. 

“And it was the last time any of us bet against our dear Burglar.” Dori finished with a satisfied nod.

Bilbo was blushing under the praise until his words finally dawned on him.

“You all were still betting on me? Even that far into the quest!” He demanded.

Nori shrugged. “Of course we were. What did you expect?”

Bilbo was spluttering. “You mean to tell me that all the way up to Thranduil’s Halls you were betting on my...usefulness?”

“No.” Dwalin denied. “Not just your usefulness. How long it would take you and Thorin to get together, how tough your feet actually are, your capability as a burglar, if you and Thorin had already…”

Bilbo made a whine in the back of his throat as his face heated to an impossible degree as he hoped the Company would let that one slide by. However, it was Ori of all people to continue the line of thought and bring up the unspeakable nature of his relationship at the dinner table. 

“Oh, I had forgotten that one.” Ori mentioned staring down at his little green notebook he carried everywhere. “Dwalin had thought it had to have been in Laketown after you and Thorin came out in the matching cloaks.”

“After the hobbit vouched for him and Thorin gave him ‘that look’, what was I supposed to think?” Dwalin defended.

Bilbo could only stare at Ori, aghast. “Y-You wrote it down? All of them?”

“Well, there were just so many going on at once, I didn’t want to get confused.” Ori explained himself.

“So what was it? What was the last bet you all deemed worth placing on me?”

Considering the fact that the atmosphere had been rather jovial even in spite of Bilbo’s indignations, he was floored by the dead silence around the table. Everyone’s faces fell in varying degrees of guilt and shame.

“Whelp! Those mines aren’t going to dig themselves tomorrow.” Bofur exclaimed, jumping up from the table.

“Yeah, I’ve got an early day with guard training.” Dwalin was the next to back out.

“It’s entirely possible I left my stove on.” Dori mumbled.

“Yeah!” Ori jumped on that line of thought only to blurt out words without truly thinking it through. “M-My books are burning!”

Bilbo was appalled to see the entire table come up with feeble, admittedly awful excuses and run off as quickly as possible. Just what could possibly be so bad that the dwarves who bet on their sex life couldn’t admit it to his face? Bilbo turned to Thorin accusingly.

“Just what was that about?”

The dwarf king shrugged. “I have no idea. The last one I knew was the one in Thranduil’s dungeons.”

Bilbo let that sink in as a shy smile pulled at his face. “You were the one to bet on me, weren’t you?”

Thorin’s grin in response was all encompassingly gorgeous as he kissed Bilbo’s forehead.

“Of course, mudùmel (comfort of all comforts). I made out handsomely in that one, which is probably what started the nature of the ‘Laketown bet’.”

Bilbo laughed in spite of himself and tried to enjoy the remainder of his evening with the dwarf who had won his heart. However, the little thought niggled at the back of his head. Just why wouldn’t the Company own up to their last bet?

***

Perhaps Bilbo truly did have a little too much free time on his hands. For the next day, he could not get Ori’s little green journal out of his head. Just what exactly was in there that would be too mortifying to be revealed? Was it embarrassing to him? To Thorin? Was it something of a...more sexual nature? Or perhaps dark? Surely, the Company would never bet on his death. His mind was forced to relive the early days of their quest once more. Maybe they had bet on laceration or incineration once they reached the door? Second breakfast had barely passed before Bilbo couldn’t take it anymore. He was thoroughly convinced his mind produced worse scenarios than what was in that little book, and he was determined to prove it. There may be at least five dwarves in this mountain that bet against him being a capable one, but burglar he was indeed.

With a brush of his coat and a wiggle to his nose, Bilbo set out to find the young scribe. And lucky for him, he knew exactly where he would be. Creeping into the library, Bilbo spied the young dwarf hunched over an old tome, working diligently in his translations. The book he was looking for lay innocently on the table. Well, this would be all too easy. He took two quiet steps into the library when Ori spoke up.

“Can I help you?”

Bilbo tried to suppress a wince. Right, thief brother. And of course, Ori’s hand sliding slowly to the notebook made it clear the dwarf knew exactly where Bilbo’s thoughts were. Mind working quickly, Bilbo confessed the first thing he could think of.

“I’m sorry to disturb your work, Ori, but after dinner last night there was a thought that wouldn’t leave my head. You see I’m...inexperienced in…certain areas and was afraid that Thorin may be expecting more from me, only I won’t know how I’m supposed to…engage.”

It all spilled out so fast, Bilbo wasn’t even aware of what he was saying until he noticed the pink hue of Ori’s skin. The hobbit felt himself pale in return. Why did he go there? Sure, it had been on his mind, but the ‘inexperienced’ part was a lie. In fact, tweens were practically encouraged to...experiment in the Shire. If anything, Thorin confessed his inadequacy for more last night which Bilbo promised he would go at his pace. However, the damage had been done. Ori didn’t respond for a long time before he slowly rose to his feet avoiding eye contact with Bilbo.

“Well, we do have books for such things.” He pointed out.

Bilbo was almost dumbstruck by this knowledge.

“You have books…?” He finally questioned. “Books on…”

Ori nodded. “The performance steps, romances with explicit details, diagrams for improving technique. I’ll show you.”

Well, today just got a whole lot more uncomfortable, and yet there was a small part of Bilbo that was rather intrigued by the notion, which somehow only made it worse. However, mission accomplished. The awkward encounter got Ori to lower his guard enough that when Bilbo passed by the table, he swiped the green book. 

After being shown what to look for, Ori quickly excused himself to leave Bilbo to his own devices. The hobbit heaved a sigh of relief as he opened the book. A couple of things became apparent to him though. One, this was Ori’s traveling notebook from the quest and as such was filled with all sorts of innate things detailing the Company and events. Two, it was written in Khuzdul. More specifically shorthand Khuzdul. However, thanks to Balin’s lessons and helping Ori out in the library, Bilbo knew exactly what to look for. It just might take him a little longer than he had thought. Nearly, halfway through the book, he found ‘Company Bets’.

A gasp sounded from beyond the shelves. “Bilbo!” Ori called out.

And that was his time being used up. Bilbo quickly scanned the page, aghast at just how many bets there were placed to suss out the nature of his and Thorin’s relationship. Even as far back as Rivendell! However, he got to the last one. The one the Company refused to talk about at the exact moment Ori appeared.

“Bilbo! I can’t believe you would do that!” Ori raged as he stole the book back from him. “Nori I would expect this from, but you…”

The young dwarf trailed off when he saw how unfocused his friend’s eyes were.

“Bilbo?” He asked softly.

The hobbit slowly lifted his head, tears threatening to spill as he stubbornly attempted to push his emotions away.

“The last bet is on me returning to the Shire dated...two days after the battle.”

“Bilbo…” Ori stated, softly reaching out for the hobbit.

Bilbo stepped away. “Ten to two. That was how you all bet. Ten of you thinking I’d go, and only two of you believing I would stay. Which one were you?”

The deafening silence was answer enough as he sidestepped the dwarf all but running back to his room. Anger didn’t do justice to how he felt. He was hurt and upset and a small part of him was feeling rather inadequate. Did they not want him here? Did they not think he belonged? Were they still feeling betrayed by his part with the Arkenstone and wishing him gone? All these thoughts circled like a loop which is how Thorin found him, staring into his fireplace with a pipe in his mouth, salt stains on his cheeks. For a long moment, Thorin didn’t say anything as he took the chair next to Bilbo.

“You have successfully cowed the entire Company. Ori ran off to find Balin who found Gloin...and needless to say all twelve are out there plotting the best way to apologize.”

“What’s there to apologize for? It was a simple bet. They all bet I would go, and yet I stayed.” 

Clearly his monotone answer did little to relieve the dwarf.

“Aye. Balin...Balin told me what it was. I think you’re looking at it all wrong.” Thorin pointed out gently.

“Looking at it wrong?” Bilbo demanded jumping to his feet with fire in his eyes. “They’re my friends! They’re my friends, and barely any of them wanted me to stay...well thought I was going to stay. My friends thought that. How can I convince a mountain of dwarves…?”

Bilbo trailed off when he felt the tightened control of the ball in his chest threaten to give. Thorin so gently and so sweetly moved his cupped hand under Bilbo’s jaw forcing them to make eye contact. Bilbo could hardly see his bitter smile through his blurry vision.

“I understand courting me comes with certain...obligations, but if this isn’t something you want, please tell me now.”

Bilbo surged forward to pull Thorin into his embrace and kiss the life out of him. No matter how messy it was amongst the tears.

“I love you, Thorin Oakenshield.” Bilbo admitted amongst his passionate display. “And nothing will stand in the way of that. But I can admit I have doubts about being Consort. I’m not a dwarf. I don’t...have a craft or a calling...I just…”

“I love you too, azyungel (love of all loves).” Thorin interrupted as he returned Bilbo’s kisses to the point of all but craning Bilbo’s neck backwards. “And I would never have you be something you’re not. I do not pursue you in the hope that you become a great dwarven Consort. I do this for myself.”

Bilbo smirked in spite of himself. “Well, that’s terribly hobbitish of you.”

Thorin returned the gesture before lightly knocking his forehead against Bilbo’s own.

“Do you feel better?”

Bilbo sighed. “Yes...but no.”

Thorin nodded in agreement. “Well, then let me finish my point from earlier.”

Bilbo refused to back down from Thorin’s challenging look.

“It was not a lack of faith in you, but rather myself.”

Bilbo raised an eyebrow, but Thorin continued with that self-deprecating look that always happened when they discussed…

“The ramparts.” He whispered as if that would keep the memories from haunting them. “They thought I wouldn’t stay…”

“Because of how poorly I treated you. And they were right. I would have made that bet.”

“Oh Thorin.” Bilbo pulled the king in for a hug. “I feel like such a blubbering idiot now.”

“No!” Thorin interrupted as he pet Bilbo’s hair. “I’m glad you told me your concerns. It was a conversation we should have had before.”

“Still…” Bilbo murmured against his tunic. “Oh dear. Well, I’ve made a right mess of things. Perhaps I should apologize.” 

Thorin smirked wolfishly. “As I said, our friends are doing that and need to do that. You just let them stew a little longer.”

Bilbo shook his head at the dwarf, but he did allow them to finally have the conversation that’s been itching at the back of his mind: Bilbo’s role in the mountain and his expectations for when he becomes consort. It wasn’t much later that the Company appeared with a lovely serving set made entirely from the silver and copper Bifur and Kili made out from that last bet (as they knew not to use gold). Bilbo sat them all down, putting the dishes to good use as they had an impromptu supper with no need to make quick excuses this time. 

Gifting homemade crafts in apology became a trend for the Company after that. Which is why Bilbo, on his lovely new serving tray, brought Fili and Kili some apology biscuits. Thorin had managed to break him about the troll incident. 

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