Work Text:
If there was one thing Bilbo hated, it was people waltzing into his workshop unannounced. It was his haven, his sanctuary. Where the cogs turned and the steam hissed, as if trying to reveal some deep, hidden secrets. It was also the place where he worked on some rather controversial projects.
His assistant’s arm being the most recent.
But Gandalf didn’t adhere to rules, and he didn’t seem to have a problem with Bilbo adjusting the grappling hook he had recently installed into Azog’s arm, so the small man just sent older gentleman a stern glare.
“What did I tell you about knocking?”
“Apologies, but you would’ve never heard me.” Gandalf replied as he rested his cane on his arm and took off his hat.
Azog snorted, one silver finger twitching. “I would have.”
“Yes, and you would’ve ignored me.” He immediately rebutted, giving Azog a stern gaze of his own. “Anyway, I’d like to ask a favor of you-.”
“No.” Bilbo cut in, adjusting his goggles a little as he worked on closing Azog’s arm up. “Whatever it is, forget it.”
“Now, Bilbo,” Gandalf spoke, and Azog quirked a pale eyebrow, for the man sounded like he was talking to a child. Of course, with the age difference, he was sure that Bilbo could be Gandalf’s grandchild.
Or great-grandchild…
… Or great-great-great-
“You haven’t even heard what I have to say.”
With a final click, Azog grinned as his arm was finally put back together. As he flexed his fingers and tested his range of motion, Bilbo shoved his goggles up into his sweaty curls.
“Gandalf, I don’t want to.” The small tinkerer spoke, clearly exasperated. “I have no interest in far off lands, treasures, or even those ridiculous flying ships you keep perstering me about.”
“They’re not ridiculous.” Gandalf muttered. “They are magnificent creations, and I know for a fact you want to at least see how one works.”
Azog had to agree with the crazy old goon, for he had always heard Bilbo talk excitedly about them, always wondering how they worked, how they managed to actually get off the ground. Even now, he saw how Bilbo’s fingers twitch at his sides.
“How would you like to see one?” Gandalf pressed, and oh, Azog was sure Bilbo would fall for his trick this time. “How would you like to fly in one?”
Azog watched as Bilbo turned and folded his arms around his chest. “Why would we be flying in one?”
Azog bit back a frown at Gandalf’s grin, even as the man pulled an old piece of parchment out of his hat. “Have you ever heard of Erebor?”
The pale man scoffed, even as he heard his boss chuckle. “The city in the sky? Come on, old man!” He laughed. “It’s a myth!”
“Not anymore.”
With that, Gandalf unrolled what looked like a rather detailed map onto their workbench, and Azog couldn’t help but whistle at the depiction of the fabled city and it’s corresponding floating islands. It was much different than the pictures he’d seen in books, more real and believable, if that were even possible. Even Bilbo seemed rather taken aback by the map.
“A company, a group made up of barely a dozen men have asked for our help.” Gandalf continued. “Many have actually seen Erebor themselves, lived there, and they want to reclaim it. In order to do so, they need a guide, me; some muscle, that’s you Azog… and a burglar, Bilbo.”
Bilbo, who had been using a lens to closely inspect the map, immediately spun around sputtering. “Me? A burglar?” He cried. “I’ve done no such thing in my entire life! How could-!”
“Your cousins Otho and Lobelia’s wedding party.” Gandalf cut in. “Your aunt Marigold’s tea party. Let’s not forget the instances with Farmer Maggot’s potatoes, and the Thain’s prized silver.”
Azog was turning pink from the sheer force he was using to hold in his laughter, and Bilbo’s face seemed to be going in the same direction.
“Well, alright, I might’ve taken a few things here and there, but only because they tried to do the same to me and my friend! My family!” He argued, and Azog snorted, even though he always enjoyed the fact that Bilbo thought of him as a friend. “That’s all in the past now. I’m probably horribly out of shape, anyway! Ha-ha!”
Gandalf merely quirked an eyebrow, and Bilbo watched as the man merely approached one of the whirling gadgets that rested on a shelf nearby. They stared at each other, even as Gandalf pressed a button, sending a clamp shooting out of the machine where it promptly dove into the older man’s pocket and plucked out his wallet.
“That-!” Bilbo tried to started, and Azog was shaking from the force of his laughter. “I made that because Lobelia kept walking out with my spoons…”
It was a weak defense, and he Azog didn’t even mind that Bilbo glared at him as he laughed at the scene, even as Gandalf managed to wrangle his wallet out of the clamp and tuck it away.
“If anything, they’re very open to such… creativity.” Gandalf continued, and Azog finally managed to get back under control. “So what do you say, Bilbo Baggins? Fancy a little adventure?”
Azog looked at Bilbo with teary eyes, and they both exchanged looks. Bilbo was clearly seeking permission from his friend and assistant, and he was more than willing to give it.
Eventually, Bilbo nodded. “We’ll think about it.” He finally answered. “We can continue discussing it another time. Dinner, if that’s amiable.”
“Very well.” Gandalf agreed, nodding and putting his hat on. “Is tomorrow evening acceptable?”
“Of course.”
“Good. I’ll bring some friends with me.”
“W-What!?” Bilbo sputtered, but by the time he had managed to think of a good argument, Gandalf was gone and out his door. He exchanged a tired look with Azog before sighing in defeat. “Of course you will, you old bat. Why my mother was friends with you, I will never know!”