Chapter Text
Bilbo Baggins is thirty five when he first travels to a mannish city.
The city is… well for lack of a better word, lackluster, to Bilbo.
Nearly as soon as he has stepped foot within the gates he is met with obvious signs of poverty within the outer rings of the city.
The Shire is a prosperous place, he knows this, but just how much better off his own people are than the men and women of the mannish city are sends a pang of empathy into Bilbo’s heart.
But he’s here on account of his mothers complaints about him not adventuring yet like his Tookish cousins. About how “Why, dear Primula isn’t even of age yet, and she’s already adventuring! You should go see the world, my love, it is good for the soul!”
So he finds a room at a cheap inn, and doesn’t bother changing to fall asleep on the bed. It had been a long journey from Bag-End to the mannish city, one he’s quite happy to rest from.
----*----*----
Bilbo is awoken by a clang and a sharp curse. Shooting up in his bed, the shadowy figure leaps at him before he can grab the knife off of the bedside table. They both go tumbling to the ground in a heap and struggle for a moment before Bilbo elbows the… man? The dwarf? The thief, in the face.
He isn’t sure if they’re a man or not, their build is too short, too stocky, to be that of a man, but Bilbo has seen very few people other than men and women in the city yet. Maybe he just hasn’t gone far enough into the city?
The thief tumbles off of Bilbo and scrambles to the window, knocking his elbow into Bilbo’s side, sure to leave a nasty bruise and ache in his side once it settles.
----*----*----
The chase is, ultimately, useless in the thief's favor.
Once the thief (a dwarf he confirms once he can actually see the guy) is captured by the sheriff, he’s hauled off kicking and fighting to a nearby jail.
Bilbo’s coin is returned to him with a nod from the sheriff in thanks for bringing a criminal to them, and Bilbo is left feeling… unaccomplished.
In all honesty he didn’t mean for the thief to get arrested. He understands why people steal, this dwarf is probably hungry, or has a friend or children who are. It just so happens that he too needs the coin.
What he wanted to happen was to snag the coin back and evade the thief until he could get a room at a different inn where he felt safer.
Bilbo has accidentally led a person into a lion's den, and he’s kicking himself over the notion of the dwarf having to go on trial over a small pouch of coin.
If his mother could see what was happening she would scold him to Mordor and back… and then she would fix it…
And there it is, isn’t it? The Took in him.
Bilbo heads straight for the first library he can find, and doesn’t make his way back to his room at the inn until the wee hours of the morning, the sky just starting the transition into a soft periwinkle.
----*----*----
By mid afternoon, Bilbo slips a coin or two to one of the guards on duty in favor of being led to the thief.
He ducks his head further under his cloak's hood as he’s led past cells with little light and even less joy. The smell of stale rot and other unpleasant things linger in the air like a heavy cloud about to burst with hail.
The guard he paid kicks a dead rat out of the center of the walkway without even stopping.
With every step he can feel the hair on his arms and feet standing on end, he’s glad he has the cloak on so no one can see the way his tail is fluffing up.
Near the end of the cell block they stop and the guard walks a few long paces away to give Bilbo and the thief a little bit of privacy, but close enough to still keep them in his line of sight.
Bilbo kneels down and props the large book in his lap.
“Hello.”
The thief, that he can barely spot through the dark even when he squints, scoffs,
“Hello? Why are you even here?”
Bilbo's ears flick back at the accusatory tone, “Well I was here with an offer to get you out, but if you don’t want me here I can go.” He taps his fingertips against the book in his lap pointedly.
The dwarf huffs and walks closer to the bars of the cell and sits down, crossing his legs, the chains on his wrists clinking annoyingly. The movements themselves are slinky and graceful in a way that only comes from years of diligent practice.
“Okay fine, fine. Why are you here?” He asks in a slightly less accusatory and infinitely more fake voice.
“How good are you at theft? Not including this fumble, obviously.”
The dwarf scoffs at him again, a growing theme at this point, “Rude. I’m the best in the business. And by the way, you still haven’t answered my question.”
Bilbo tilts his head to the side, “the best in the business, you say?” Several, very un-hobbitish ideas that he’s had since last night finally solidifying in his head. He leans forward, holding back from giving the dwarf a toothy grin, “I have a deal to offer,” His tail flicks, once, twice, out of amusement.
His father may have raised him a Baggins, but he had never opposed Bilbo’s Tookish tendencies.
“Baggins’ are trees, my boy, and Tooks are thorny roots. Both are different, one may seem more important than the other at any given moment, but ultimately they are necessary for a flourishing forest.” His father had said to him, years ago, when he was in that awkward phase in between fauntling and tween.
The dwarf sighs, “What’s the deal?” The poor guy looks defeated, like he’d gotten run over with a cart. Bilbo can only guess how roughly the guards have treated him.
Bilbo remembers all of his Took cousins that will show up at random hours of the night at their doorstep, asking his mother for help patching wounds and splinting sprains they’d acquired while adventuring.
Belladonna Took-Baggins, experienced adventurer and accomplished apothecary, would let them in and look them over, healing and consoling them—scolding them when necessary—helping them back on their feet before sending them back out the door.
It was an unspoken rule with Tookborough’s youth, that if you got hurt while adventuring, and you didn’t want your parents or the Thain to know, then you went straight to Belladonna Took, with her swift, healing hands, and a knack for “forgetting” to tell her siblings and cousins when their children had gone on an adventure past the boundaries they’d set.
Perhaps his thief needs a Belladonna Took in his life right now.
Bilbo grins. It’s a mischievous, Tookish grin that, if his father was here, he would say looks exactly like his mother’s.
Bilbo leans forward, lowering his voice to an excited whisper, “If you’re truly so great at stealing, then I want you to teach me how,” he holds up the book for the dwarf to see, “and in exchange, I’ll get you out with no financial cost on your shoulders.”
----*----*----
“Marriage?!” The dwarf, Nori, as Bilbo has learned his name is, whisper yells.
Bilbo holds up his hands placatingly, “Look, it's not my fault that the city's laws are this weird.” He gestures to the book, a tome of law he borrowed from a library, “I’m also baffled that someone even wrote it down. But,” he smacks his hand over Nori’s mouth before the dwarf can argue, “I also checked how expensive a marriage license is, and it isn't much. It’s only fifteen silver, a piece of paper for us both to sign, and a local judge to witness.” He pulls his hand away.
Nori immediately reaches for his retreating arm and argues, “If you have the money to get a marriage license then you should have enough to just pay my bail! I only stole a small coin pouch, it can’t be that expensive.”
“The bail for getting you out is two hundred gold,” he shakes his head, “it’s out of my funds, and if you stealing is any indication, I’d assume it’s out of yours too.”
“Oh.” Nori straightens his posture quickly and then slumps, “fuck.”
----*----*----
It really isn’t that hard to find a judge to officiate.
Bilbo goes to the local court house, locates the judge with the cheapest quality robes, hoping they’ll be more amenable for less coin, says he and one of the prisoners are engaged and would like to be married as quickly as possible before trial.
The woman, just like he had suspected, folds at the sight of the coin he offered her.
The ceremony itself is lackluster, he’ll have to treat Nori to a proper celebration once he’s out of jail. They have little bits of twine Bilbo had on hand as makeshift rings, Bilbo’s quill and the judges papers to make it official, and the judge as their witness.
Once it’s done Bilbo leaves with the judge and fills out the second paper he needs at the courthouse.
It’s an odd law, Bilbo thinks. But since Nori committed a crime against Bilbo, if Bilbo deigns to marry Nori, then Bilbo can get Nori out of prison, free of bail.
Bilbo doesn’t particularly like the law, it has too many loopholes and chances for abusing the law and either or person in the situation, he can only imagine how many coerced marriages happened so someone didn’t go to jail for their crimes. But right now, he is grateful for it and all its loopholes.
Bilbo signs the papers that will release Nori from prison and the judge sends it to the head of the department for approval.