Mounting Dwarvish Absurdities
In which Thorin convinces Bilbo to ride one of Ereborâs war rams. Written for @anunexpectedanniversary!! Also here on AO3.
âYou have got to be kidding me.â
Bilbo placed his hands on his hips, settling the dwarf in front of him with an unimpressed glare. Thorin hardly blinked, unfazed by the hobbitâs indignation.
âI know not what you mean, ghivashel,â he replied stiffly.
âDid you actually think I would set even one foot near that - that beast?â Bilbo exclaimed.
Thorinâs eyes narrowed as the hobbitâs words hit their mark. âThis is one of our finest battle rams,â he corrected icily, turning to give the monstrous creature an affectionate stroke along one of its dangerously long, curved horns. The creature snorted, wide nostrils flaring as it tilted its head into the Kingâs touch.
Bilbo most certainly did not yelp, nor did he jump away.
âItâs a glorified farm animal!â he yelled, hand over his furiously beating heart. âAnd Iâm not getting on it!â
âYou dare insult the ways of my people?â Thorin growled, though his words lacked any real heat.
âDonât be so dramatic,â Bilbo grumbled as he turned to leave. âIâm not getting on and thatâs final!â
âI see,â Thorin conceded with a sigh. âI did not think you would be so easily frightened.â
Bilbo rolled his eyes, hands throwing up in the air exasperatedly. âIf youâre trying to goad me, may I remind you that Iâm not some egotistical, clot-headed dwarf who will get himself killed just to prove a point?â
âNot at all,â Thorin said, trying for an air of resignation as he leaned against the fence enclosing the animals in. He failed miserably. âI am merely surprised the brave hobbit who fearlessly stood against a dragon cannot bring himself to ride a perfectly tame farm animal.â As he spoke, the Kingâs lips curved into a suspiciously triumphant smirk.
âSmaug was different,â Bilbo scoffed, unmoved by the taunt. âI had both feet securely planted on the ground at all times.â He gestured emphatically at the large appendages, currently nestled in some soft, sun-warmed grass.
âSo it is a matter of keeping your unnaturally large, leather-soled, furry feet on the ground.â
âIt is a matter of keeping my respectably-sized feet on the ground,â Bilbo corrected, wagging his finger as he added, âAnd donât act as though you donât love my feet hair!â
âThat is not a matter to discuss at the present,â Thorin said through clenched teeth, the fierceness of his growled reply lost somewhat as he looked away, cheeks visibly heating. âBut if you wish, I will make a deal with you.â
âA deal?â Bilbo repeated, snorting in disbelief. âAnd what could you possibly offer me?â
âI will stop teaching you how to swim,â the King revealed triumphantly.
Bilbo blinked in surprise. It was a tempting offer - Thorin was a horrible teacher, not to mention Bilbo was a completely unwilling pupil. His swimming lessons involved Thorin ambushing Bilbo in the underground pool they used for bathing, and trying to drag him, kicking and screaming, to the deep middle. Bilbo had taken to bathing only when Thorin was stuck in a meeting, and even then he did so as quickly as possible, looking around nervously for any attacking dwarf Kings.
Thorinâs smirk widened smugly as Bilbo pondered the deal. If there was one thing Bilbo hated more than the Kingâs defeated pout, it was his self-satisfied gloat.
âFine,â Bilbo grumbled finally, ignoring the way his ridiculous betrothed preened obnoxiously.