Sherlock entered Mycroft’s office without knocking and found DI Lestrade half astride Mycroft’s lap, a hand in his hair, kissing him thoroughly.
Greg scrambled upright. Mycroft adjusted his tie.
“What,” Sherlock demanded, “is this?”
“That,” Mycroft said, “is a door you neglected to knock upon.”
“This.” Sherlock pointed at Greg like damning evidence. “You and him.”
“Oi! Lovely to see you too, mate.”
Read this 360mg fic on AO3
***
Thank you for the prompt @mystradepromptsandscenarios
Gosh I hate those spam comments on AO3. I published my newest Bagginshield chapter today and just saw that I had gotten a comment (the first for this chapter) and I got sooooo excited. Turns out it was one of those spam comments that tell you how good the story would work for a comic 🙄 I'm just so tired of that sh*t.
(If you ever receive such a comment, report it. I usually use this: "This comment is spam, which is a violation of Section II.K of the Terms of Service.")
story description: Bilbo tells Kíli a little about flowers. What he didn't expect was how seriously the young dwarf would take their conversation. Soon three young dwarves are up to something Bilbo can't quite figure out. And then there is a certain blue-eyed dwarf who seems to misunderstand him at every turn.
pairing: Bilbo Baggins × Thorin Oakenshield (background Fíli×Ori)
chapter word count: ~2.2k words
Wanna read the chapter on AO3? Find the "Of Flowers and Stones" Masterlist here.
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When Bilbo woke the next morning, he was not sure how he had gotten into bed after leaving Thorin behind. Everything seemed blurry.
With a low groan, the hobbit sat up and looked around. The shared bedroom seemed almost empty; only Bifur was still sleeping at the far end of the room. The bed next to Bilbo seemed untouched, and his eyes lingered for a moment, wondering whether Thorin had slept in it last night. With a sigh, the hobbit turned his head away and stood. He should not let that unbelievably rude dwarf crowd his mind.
Bilbo slipped through the door as quietly as possible so as not to wake Bifur. The hallway was empty, but from far away Bilbo heard muffled voices. With slow steps, he followed them and only when he stepped through the next door did he realise that the voices had brought him to the kitchen.
Ori looked up from his steaming cup, and a small smile tugged at his lips just as Calenion nodded a greeting.
"Good morning, Bilbo," the elf said with a gentle smile. "I saw you dance last night. I'm full of sorrow that I didn't get the chance to participate." Despite the outcome of last night, Bilbo began to smile at the thought of the dance he had shared with his newfound friends.
"Maybe we will be able to share a dance in the near future,” the hobbit answered as he tilted his head.
“It would be a pleasure.” On Calenion's lips spread a wide grin. “Would you like some honey nut cake?” Eager, Bilbo nodded and softly patted his tummy.
“I would never deny the possibility of eating a honey nut cake.”
As Calenion left to search for the honey nut cake, Bilbo turned towards Ori again.
“It's good to see you, Bilbo,” the young dwarf said as his thumbs carried the cup absent-mindedly. “We were quite concerned when you didn't return after your conversation with Thorin.”
Bilbo couldn't hold back a whine, and for a moment he looked away.
“A conversation with an ignorant dwarf that is so full of himself is rather hard to swallow," the hobbit hissed as a strange pull tightened his chest. The young dwarf watched Bilbo for a long moment before he opened his mouth once more.
"When Thorin came back, searching for Balin, he was quiet and didn't even look in our direction. He seemed out of sorts."
A huff escaped Bilbo's lips, and he shook his head. Thorin had no right to feel blue.
"Most likely because he thought your gifts of friendship were courting gifts, and accused me of being greedy and selfish when I accepted your beautiful gifts."
"Oh..." Ori breathed with wide eyes. "I'm sorry our gifts have caused you hurt, Bilbo." A quiet, joyless laugh escaped Bilbo's lips as he shrugged.
"It's not your fault, Ori. But believing so sheepishly that flowers only have one meaning is his fault. Let him be out of sorts; he deserves it. Stupid dwarf!"
For a heartbeat, neither of them said a word as Ori drew circles against the wooden table.
"Maybe assuming things, not asking and getting jealous runs in the family," Ori whispered, avoiding meeting Bilbo's eyes. With furrowed brows, the hobbit leaned in slightly.
"Did something happen after I left?" Bilbo asked, willing his voice to soften. "Has Fíli hurt you in any kind of way?"
"Well... it..." Ori turned his head abruptly "How do you know I'm talking about Fíli?" A small smile tugged at Bilbo's lips, and he patted Ori's arm softly.
"We have been travelling together for quite some time now, haven't we? Even if I have not had the chance to love someone and to be loved in the past, I have seen it enough times to recognise it," he confessed. "You are not as careful as you think you are when you look at Fíli. After the third night I noticed that you are always making your bed next to Fíli's even when your brothers are on the other side of camp." A soft pinkish colour spread on Ori's cheeks as Bilbo continued. "You let him have the fuller bowl of dinner and, if I'm not mistaken, knitted him a scarf he is wearing every day, even though it's way too hot for that now. I have also seen how he looked at you when we danced yesterday."
"I have not noticed him doing that," Ori whispered, brows furrowed, and all Bilbo could do was to hum softly.
"Will you tell me what happened last night?"
Instead of answering immediately, Ori took a long sip from his cup.
"After Thorin left with Balin, an elf asked me to dance with him?" Ori said, making it sound more like a question than an answer. A small laugh escaped him. "I was surprised but agreed to it, and it was so different to the dance we danced. The elf danced with me through the hall, and even though I was a lot smaller, I didn't feel like a dwarrowling. It felt..." A quiet sigh escaped Ori, and he skittered in his seat. "...like I was recognised as a grown-up. Not that I have any interest in that elf."
"You felt seen," Bilbo mumbled with a gentle smile. "Nothing wrong with that." When Ori met Bilbo's eyes, the hobbit could make out a soft shimmer in Ori's eyes.
"Thank you."
Bilbo waited until Ori had set his cup back onto the saucer.
"Will you tell me what happened after the dance?"
Slowly, Ori nodded, one hand finding its way towards one of his braids.
"Fíli had vanished when I returned to the others, and Kíli told me Fíli had been quite upset. I searched for him, but I couldn't find him." Ori sighed, and he shook his head as a smile that didn't reach his eyes spread on his lips. It pained Bilbo to see the young dwarf this way, and without thinking, he pulled him into a hug.
"It seems all Durins are idiots," Bilbo grumbled as Ori leaned into the hug.
The sound of a door made Bilbo flinch slightly, and he turned his head to find Fíli standing a few feet away from them. His shoulders were pulled up, his gaze fixed at a point just past Ori and the hobbit. His bottom lip was bitten bloody, and Fíli had hidden his hands behind his back. The dwarf princess cleared his throat.
"I would like to talk to Ori in private," Fíli finally said, his voice uneven.
"I will not go anywhere, Fíli," Bilbo answered firmly. For a moment, Fíli's eyes drifted to Ori before he swallowed hard.
"Ori, I'm sorry," Fíli breathed, and Bilbo felt how Ori froze next to him. "I... I don't know why..." Fíli stopped for a moment, pressing his lips together. "You are my best friend, Ori, and I have always cared for you with all my heart." Bilbo's heart stopped for a moment; had he read Fíli wrong? Was he, in fact, not in love with Ori?
"You are my best friend as well, Fíli," Ori whispered back. A tiny sigh escaped Fíli's lips, and he took a step forward.
"But seeing you dance with this elf..." The young dwarf breathed in deeply. "...a tight pull in my chest took away my breath, and the hot bubbling in my stomach made me want to stop your dancing... I needed to get away before I did something that would have hurt you." Fíli's chest was rising and falling fast. "I have still hurt you, it seems. Please forgive me, Ori."
With a slow movement, Fíli pulled his arms from behind his back, revealing a wildly mixed bouquet. A smile spread on Bilbo's lips as he looked at the glorious hyacinths, the soft-looking blue irises, the tiny daisies and at...
"Light purple lilac," he whispered, mouth slightly falling open. Ori turned his head from the flowers to look at Bilbo.
"I can't remember this one; what does it mean?" Ori said, voice merely a whisper. A wide smile spread on Bilbo's lips, and his fingertips began to tingle. He looked towards Fíli, whose ears had turned a bright shade of red.
"Gifting light purple lilac means—"
"—I want to tell you that I realised I'm falling for you, Ori," Fíli interrupted, the bouquet slightly shaking in his hands. "I have been falling for you..." The young dwarf took a few deliberate steps towards Ori. "And I only realised I have been falling for you for so long when I watched you dance with that elf." Fíli had stopped in front of the other dwarf.
Bilbo held his breath as he watched them, waiting for a reaction from Ori. The youngest member of the company slowly cupped Fíli's hands, still holding the flowers.
"They are beautiful," he mumbled as a tiny smile tugged at his lips. Fíli's shoulders seemed to relax as soon as Ori's hands met his.
"I'm glad you like them," he whispered back.
"I really do." With one hand, Ori reached out and took the flowers from the other dwarf. "Thank you." When Ori leaned in, opening his arms wide, Bilbo had to hold back an excited laugh. Instead, he watched with a wide grin as the young dwarf embraced the other. It only took a second before Fíli relaxed into Ori's arms, tightly hugging him back.
"You two are making me feel so lonely," Bilbo huffed with a wide grin when the two dwarves didn't seem to loosen their grip from each other. With an amused chuckle, Fíli stepped back but didn't let go of Ori.
"You should not be such a pessimist, friend. Maybe you are closer to it than you think." Ori looked up to Fíli just as Bilbo raised one eyebrow.
"I'm getting too old to believe in a happy ending for me."
For a moment, Fíli only looked at him.
"And I believe you should not stop believing."
"It sounds like you know more than I do," Bilbo said with a huff as a grin spread on Fíli's lips.
"I think you should find something to read in the library."
Bilbo blinked a few times before the frown deepened.
"I do not understand, Fíli."
"Let them have a bit of time alone, Bilbo," said Calenion, who had just stepped out of the pantry, holding a plate with a few pieces of honey nut cake and a bowl of freshly cut fruit. Bilbo turned his face towards the elf, his nose twitching slightly.
"I... yes... of course. Private time." Slowly, he slid from the chair, a grin tugging at his lips. "But don't go overboard." A surprised sound escaped Ori's lips, and the brightest red spread on his cheeks.
"I would never, not without courting first. Thorin would see me dead," Fíli explained, his eyes never leaving Ori's face. "As well as Nori and Dori." A light chuckle escaped Bilbo's lips at the mention of Ori's brothers. They were indeed very protective of their youngest brother.
"Well..." Bilbo mumbled after a heartbeat. "I will leave you two alone." With a grin, he stole the plate out of Calenion's grip. He gave the two dwarves and the elf a last nod before he slipped out.
For a moment, Bilbo stopped outside. His smile faltered and an aching pull made itself known inside his chest. He was happy for Ori and Fíli but he would give an awful lot to have it himself.
A huff escaped him and he followed Fíli's suggestion, walking slowly towards the library.
The library was quiet when the hobbit stepped through the door. Then from between two bookshelves Bilbo heard an audible sigh followed by the sound of paper turning.
"By Mahal." A very familiar voice hissed quietly. The hobbit turned abruptly, his hand already on the door handle when he heard footsteps coming closer. "Master Baggins?"
Bilbo looked back, finding Thorin next to the bookshelves, who hid a book behind his back.
"I didn't know you were here. I will not be up in your business and will leave," Bilbo answered, his words tumbling over each other. He pulled at the door.
"Don't!"
The hobbit only flinched slightly and the door fell shut again. "Please," Thorin breathed, never quite meeting Bilbo's eyes. "You have every right to be here just as I do. Don't leave just because of me." Bilbo blinked a few times, fighting away the lump in his throat. After another second, he nodded.
His first step was uncertain and he felt Thorin's eyes on him. Without really looking, Bilbo grabbed a book as he walked towards the armchair he had sat in yesterday as well. A breath trembled out of the hobbit and he set down the honey nut cake on the side table.
From his seat, Thorin was still in view and for a split second their eyes met. The dwarf swallowed thickly before he narrowed his eyes. He had placed the book, he had held behind his back, on the table. It was too far for Bilbo to read the title but even from the distance it looked oddly familiar. His eyes stayed on the dark-haired dwarf for a moment longer before a sigh left his lips and he leveled his eyes towards the book in his lap. He opened the book and began to read.
This! I absolutely love to reread my own fics. Some more than others, but I absolutely love it. Sometimes I really get emotional as if it's the first time I'm reading this and don't know what's coming 😂
It also helps me to become a better writer, I guess. Because with a bit of distance, I notice "mistakes" I made. Things that sound clunky or choppy and I can use that knowledge to get better at writing. 😊
description: Mycroft only needed a reason to visit Greg, so he asked Sherlock for help. Asking Sherlock, however, might have been a terrible mistake. Things get worse before they get better.
pairing: Mycroft Holmes x Greg Lestrade
prompt: "I needed a reason." (Mystrade Monday Prompt #95 @mystradepromptsandscenarios)
genre: mutual pining; misunderstanding; idiots in love; love confession; first kiss; Greg needs a hug; Mycroft needs a hug; Sherlock is a little shit; emotional hurt comfort; happy ending
word count: ~ 1000 words
Read this fic on AO3. Find my other Mystrade fanfic here.
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The blinds in Greg's office were pulled down as the Detective Inspector sat at his desk, a cold pack pressed against his cheek. The throbbing had gone down in the last few minutes, but it still hurt as hell. With a grumble, he began to write down, per the request of his DCI, what had happened at the latest crime scene. The anger was still bubbling under Greg's skin, and he hoped he would not see Sherlock and John for at least a week. One reprimand was enough for now.
A knock on the door let Greg flinch so hard that the pen in his hand scratched over the paper. A sigh escaped him, and he threw the paper into the bin.
"What?" Greg hissed loudly. The door opened slowly, and Greg recognised the smell of the newcomer before he even noticed the three-piece suit. The warm, deep cedarwood blended with the brightness of bergamot. For a moment, the man simply stood in the doorway as if he were waiting to be let in.
"Good evening, Detective Inspector." Mycroft's deep voice was smooth; nonetheless, a chill went down Greg's spine. He had hoped it would take longer for the older Holmes brother to learn about what had happened at the latest crime scene.
"What do you want?" Greg grumbled, his mouth faster than his brain. A sigh escaped him, and he brushed through his hair. He should watch his tongue. In the end, the only thing Mycroft would need to do to dismiss Greg was to snap his fingers.
"Take a seat," Greg then said, forcing his voice to sound calm, as he pointed towards the chair. Mycroft closed the door behind himself and took a few deliberate steps towards the chair. As the government official sank into the chair, Greg straightened his back and braced himself for the first blow.
"It came to my knowledge..." Mycroft began to speak after a long moment of silence, the umbrella between his knees. "...that you and my brother had, let's call it, a disagreement at the latest crime scene of yours." A huff escaped Greg, and he shook his head lightly, his cheek hurting even from this small movement.
"Disagreement is one way to call it, yes." Greg pulled the cold pack away from his cheek and threw it onto his work desk. When he looked up again, Mycroft's eyes were fixed on his face, his lips pressed together tightly.
"Did Sherlock do that?" Mycroft asked and had the audacity to sound worried. A short laugh escaped Greg's lips.
"John did," he said. "Did Sherlock leave that out when he snitched on me?"
"I beg your pardon?" Mycroft's brows furrowed. An irritated huff escaped Greg's lips.
"Please, you wouldn't be here if Sherlock didn't tell you about it." Greg crossed his arms in front of his chest. "I already got a reprimand. Why are you here?"
Mycroft's lips parted, but not a single word left his lips. He cleared his throat and looked away for a moment.
"I needed a reason."
"What?" Greg furrowed his brows. He saw Mycroft swallow hard.
"I needed a reason—" Mycroft repeated, scooting in his chair. "— to come here."
Greg stood abruptly, hands pressed against his work desk.
"So you told Sherlock to insult me in the worst way he could think of? You told him to strike below the belt?" the salt-and-pepper-haired man asked in disbelief. "I knew you were capable of many things, but I didn't expect that, Mycroft."
Mycroft shook his head, eyes wide open.
"He was only supposed to create a small conflict. Just grand enough for me to get in contact with you afterwards."
"He told me I deserved to be cheated on and that nobody would stay loyal in a relationship with me! That there is nobody who could really love me," Greg hissed, his voice sounding shaky even in his own ears. "I got so angry that I lashed out and John had to interfere." He felt a sting in his eyes and pressed them shut for a moment. He didn't want Mycroft to see his tears.
A strangled noise left Mycroft's lips, and Greg opened his eyes, meeting his gaze. Mycroft stood slowly and stepped forward.
"Please forgive me. It was not my intention to hurt you," Mycroft said with a certain softness in his voice. Greg's gaze dropped to Mycroft's fingers that fiddled with the hem of his jacket.
"What even was your intention in the first place?"
"To get in contact with you," Mycroft answered immediately. "You have ignored my texts for the last two weeks. My calls went straight to your voicemail, and I had no chance to contact you."
An outraged huff escaped Greg's lips.
"You made it more than clear during our last drink that you do not feel the same way as I do. My heart can only take that much. I didn't need to be reminded that I'm not lovable, thank you." Greg's throat started to feel tight all of a sudden, and he looked away.
For a few painfully long heartbeats, Greg's office was quiet. Then a featherlight touch on his hand pulled him back towards Mycroft.
"We had way too much gin that night," the other man whispered. "When you pressed me further into the sofa, kissed me like I was the only man you ever wanted, I was afraid you only did that because of the alcohol. That's the only reason why I stopped you."
For a moment, Greg closed his eyes and shook his head in disbelief.
"The gin might have helped me to finally risk it, but I have loved you for so long, I did not kiss you only because I was drunk."
A sigh escaped Mycroft's throat, and his shoulders relaxed visibly.
"Please forgive me, I made such a mess."
Greg shook his head with a chuckle.
"We both did. I shouldn't have ignored you when you tried to reach me." He turned his hand and gently connected their hands.
Mycroft cleared his throat and straightened his back, but a tiny smile tugged at his lips.
"I would like to invite you to a drink at my house."
A grin spread on Greg's lips.
"So we are skipping dinner?" he asked, one eyebrow raised. "Do you want me to get drunk quicker so I will kiss you earlier?"
"I... no... well... I..." Mycroft stopped his rumbling, and a short laugh escaped him as a pinkish colour started to spread on his cheeks. With a chuckle, Greg pulled Mycroft closer by his tie.
"I don't need to be drunk to kiss you," he mumbled just inches from the other man's lips. For a heartbeat, he waited for a protest from Mycroft, and when it didn't come, he leaned in.
story description: Bilbo tells Kíli a little about flowers. What he didn't expect was how seriously the young dwarf would take their conversation. Soon three young dwarves are up to something Bilbo can't quite figure out. And then there is a certain blue-eyed dwarf who seems to misunderstand him at every turn.
pairing: Bilbo Baggins × Thorin Oakenshield
chapter word count: ~1.000 words
A/N: This will be a shorter chapter. Please be aware that this chapter contains an argument.
Wanna read the chapter on AO3? Find the "Of Flowers and Stones"-Masterlist here
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The hobbit had to look up a bit to meet Thorin's eyes. A shiver ran down Bilbo's spine, but not quite a good one.
"Just a word with you," Thorin grumbled and for a moment Bilbo's heart stopped.
The Thorin he had seen earlier on didn't seem to be in front of him now.
The Thorin that had smiled at him.
The Thorin that had had this certain softness in his gaze.
Now these bright blue eyes only watched him coldly.
"Uncle, don't be so grumpy. Did you see Bilbo and us dance? You should have joined as w–"
"I'm not talking to you at the moment, Fíli!" Thorin hissed, his eyes landed on Fíli only for a split second before they moved back to Bilbo. "Master Baggins?"
Bilbo cleared his throat and nodded. Thorin turned on his heels and walked towards the exit of the hall without looking back.
"I haven't seen uncle like this in a long time," Kíli mumbled, staring after Thorin.
"Do you want me to come along?" Fíli asked but Bilbo could only shake his head.
"I will manage." Bilbo patted Fíli's shoulder softly before he followed Thorin out of the hall.
With a fast-beating heart, Bilbo looked for Thorin as soon as he left the hall. The tall dwarf stood next to a door, holding it open for Bilbo.
"We will talk here."
Bilbo stopped himself just in time to notice rolling his eyes at the rudeness of Thorin's words would most certainly only make said man even more insufferable and stepped through the entryway. The door fell shut behind them and the hobbit was suddenly very aware of the quietness of the room.
Bilbo turned, already opening his mouth to ask Thorin what he wanted to talk about, when Thorin interrupted his thoughts.
"How dare you!" Thorin hissed. Bilbo blinked once, twice before he shook his head lightly.
"I beg your pardon?"
"By Mahal, you know exactly what I mean."
"I can guarantee you, I don't!" Bilbo hissed back. Thorin closed the distance between them, taking hold of the flower belt Fíli had created.
"You want to tell me that you didn't just accept a courting gift!" Thorin's voice was low and rough.
"I–"
"And you didn't just accept one courting gift, no! You were so greedy to take all three courting gifts from different dwarves!" Thorin's hand around the flower belt had gotten so tight, Bilbo was afraid the dwarf would break it.
"Those gifts were no courting gif–"
"Do you have no shame in accepting those courting gifts from those so much younger than you?" Thorin's brows were furrowed and his cheeks were bright red. "How dare you!" he sneered, pressing a finger against Bilbo's chest.
"No, how dare you!" Bilbo snapped, shoving Thorin's finger away. "How dare you assume flower giving is only meant for courting!" He slapped Thorin's hand that was still holding onto the flower belt.
"They were gifts from Fíli, Kíli and Ori as a sign of friendship not a courting gift. They were the first friendship gifts I have received in years!" Bilbo's heart was beating painfully strong in his chest. With a strangled sound, he threw his hands in the air. "How dare you ruin this for me, you stupid dwarf!" A low protest bubbled in Thorin's throat but Bilbo didn't leave him enough time to speak. "I can't believe that you think so little of me. Do you really think I would be so greedy and accept three courting gifts from people I do not even have feelings for?"
"I–"
Bilbo could only stare at Thorin for a long moment as the dwarf searched for words.
"Do you even know what those flowers mean?" Bilbo asked, his voice sounding dull even in his own ears. He was suddenly feeling so tired. So unbelievable tired. A short laugh escaped Bilbo's lips when Thorin kept quiet for the first time since the beginning of their conversation, if their back-and-forth could even be considered a conversation. "Of course, you don't know what those flowers mean, otherwise you would never have assumed so arrogantly that those were courting flowers."
"They have different meanings?"
"Of course they have!" Bilbo hissed as he pressed two of his fingers against the bridge of his nose. "You wouldn't just gift a rose-quartz or ruby to a good friend of yours, would you? Just as gemstones hold meaning, flowers do as well."
"Did Fíli and Kíli tell you about our stones?" Thorin asked, one eyebrow raised and a certain roughness in his voice.
"I have two eyes and access to Elrond's fabulous library. And so did your nephews and Ori." A soft sigh escaped Bilbo as he shook his head. "It seems that at least some in your family are not that dense."
When Thorin didn't seem to find any words, Bilbo whispered, "I am tired." His fingers found their way toward the flower belt, gently repositioning it. "I will head to bed." With slightly wobbly legs, Bilbo passed the dark-haired dwarf. Their conversation must have had more effect on him than he had thought. He had the door handle already in his hand when Thorin finally spoke again.
"What did they mean?" he asked. With slightly furrowed eyes, Bilbo turned his head and Thorin continued, "the flowers you received."
"Do I look like a botany book? Fíli, Kíli and Ori learned about the meanings without my help and if you really want to know as well, you will need to do the same." With that Bilbo turned his head again, opened the door and slipped through it.
The head tailor of Erebor is driven to near-madness by Thorin’s sudden and bizarre demands. The King under the Mountain, known for his strict military style, suddenly insists that the stiff gold embroidery on the collars of his shirts be removed and replaced with soft velvet. He also demands that the heavy, clanking metal buckles on his everyday tunics be exchanged for quiet wooden buttons. The tailor thinks the King has lost his mind, until he spots Bilbo resting his head against Thorin’s chest during a quiet moment in the council room. The soft adjustments were entirely so that Bilbo wouldn't scratch his face when leaning against the King
story description: Bilbo tells Kíli a little about flowers. What he didn't expect was how seriously the young dwarf would take their conversation. Soon three young dwarves are up to something Bilbo can't quite figure out. And then there is a certain blue-eyed dwarf who seems to misunderstand him at every turn.
pairing: Bilbo Baggins/Thorin Oakenshield
chapter word count: 1.7 k
Wanna read the chapter on AO3? Find the "Of Flowers and Stones"-Masterlist here
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Only half an hour later, Bilbo stepped out of the shared sleep room. He had found some fresh clothes that fit him perfectly on his bedroll. It made him wonder how the elves had managed to fit those clothes to his body without any measurements.
Music echoed through the hallway, and the more steps the hobbit took, the louder the music grew. Bilbo felt his heart quicken. He was starting to feel excited despite his earlier displeasure with the whole idea of a celebration. It would most certainly do him good to let loose after those weeks on the road.
When he stepped into the hall, he noticed with surprise that, despite a certain dwarf trio, it seemed as if he was one of the last to arrive. He stepped further in, uncertain whom to join when his eyes fell on Thorin, who was resting against the balcony railing. The elves must have given everyone in the company fresh clothes. The soft-looking fabric enveloped Thorin's body in all the right places. Bilbo had to blink a few times before his eyes drifted up again. Just in time to notice Thorin's eyes on him. Warmth travelled up Bilbo's neck and even his ears began to feel hot. For a split second, he closed his eyes and a tiny whine escaped his throat. His fingers began to fiddle with the hem of his jacket. He was acting like a tween, all blushing just by meeting someone's eyes. Well, Bilbo thought, Thorin was not just someone, wasn't he?
With a sigh, he opened his eyes again, finding Thorin's eyes still on him. For another heartbeat, Bilbo stared at the dark-haired dwarf, debating whether he would be welcomed should he join Thorin and Dwalin. Something seemed to soften in Thorin's face, which let Bilbo finally take a step towards him. His heart leapt when the corner of Thorin's mouth twitched up the slightest. The hobbit took another step before someone, or rather three someones, came into view and stopped him.
Bilbo nearly scolded the three young dwarves who now stood in front of him. But only nearly because only seconds after he had recognised Fíli, Kíli and Ori, he noticed flowers in their hands. No, not just flowers...
"I knew you were up to something," Bilbo chuckled and a grin spread on his lips.
"Master Baggins, please accept this belt made of flowers as a sign of friendship," Fíli said, holding out a belt woven from flowers. His eyes moved between the belt and Bilbo's face. For a moment, Bilbo's eyes wandered over the many flowers.
"Have you braided it yourself?" he asked, raising one eyebrow.
"Yes, mostly, Ori helped me a bit," Fíli confessed, his eyes shortly drifting towards Ori, a soft smile on his lips. Bilbo brushed gently over daisies, lavender and primroses before he took the belt from the young dwarf and carefully placed it around his hip. He knotted it gently and looked up. Fíli's eyes had widened and an ear-to-ear grin was planted on his lips.
"Thank you, this means a lot to me," Bilbo whispered.
"I was struggling to braid something out of the flowers," Kíli explained, his cheeks a soft pinkish colour. "But please accept these flowers for your jacket." With tingling fingers, the Hobbit held out his hand and Kíli placed the flowers into it. For a moment, Bilbo admired the sunflower and the cornflowers that surrounded the bigger flower.
"Thank you, Kíli. If you want, I can show you how to braid with flowers," he said and tucked the flowers into his jacket pocket. Kíli's eyes lit up and he nodded enthusiastically.
"Yes, please."
Bilbo's smile widened and he turned towards Ori, who had not said a word since the three dwarves had stopped him. From behind his back, Ori pulled a flower crown.
"Where did you three even get so many flowers from?" Bilbo wondered.
"That will be our secret," Ori said with a childlike giggle. "I chose daisies, rosemary, buttercups and primroses for the flower crown. Please accept it." A soft chuckle escaped Bilbo's lips.
"How could I ever reject such fine craftwork?" the hobbit asked, bending his head slightly for Ori to place the crown on his head. "Thank you, Ori."
All three dwarves were now staring at him with wide grins.
"You three should have said something, I have nothing for you lads," Bilbo huffed, but the smile on his face never faltered.
"Master Baggins, there is no need," Ori said carefully, shaking his head.
"We did give you these flowers to show you how much we appreciate that you are part of the company-" Fíli began to explain.
"-and that we would very much like to learn more about you and maybe even call you a... friend?" Kíli finished.
"Friends?" Bilbo asked. He had not been anyone's friend for a long time. Back in the shire many other hobbits were friendly but Bilbo would not have called any of them his friends. "It would be a pleasure."
The three dwarves exchanged glances before they nodded along.
"Let's have a drink on that," Fíli said, turning towards the wine cask in the corner of the hall. "I will get us some."
Slowly, Bilbo started to notice his surroundings again. For a second his eyes drifted to where Thorin had been standing, finding the balcony empty. Bilbo wondered where the dwarf had gone.
The music had changed, and some of the elves were now moving elegantly to it, even as the music called for something more energetic. Bilbo's feet started tapping in rhythm with the music before he fully registered it.
"Well, won't you show us how you can dance?"
"Dear me, Master Nori! Would you please stop appearing out of nowhere?"
With a one-sided grin, Nori stepped into view from behind him.
"You are too easily distracted, Master Baggins," Nori replied. Bilbo huffed but couldn't deny that he had been distracted by the kindness of the three young dwarves.
"You can dance?" Kíli asked, one brow raised and a bright smile on his lips. Bilbo could only huff as he shook his head and walked over towards the dance floor.
"Can you dance? Are they really asking me this?" he grumbled under his breath, stopping a bit further away from the elves.
For a moment the hobbit closed his eyes and tried only to hear the music. Once more his feet began to tap to the rhythm of the music. It had been some time since he had last danced and when he did so, it had been with a hobbitess. But luckily for him the song the elves were currently playing was one he could dance alone to perfectly. His feet began to move on their own, and his hands didn't stay by his sides for long. They found their way into the air around Bilbo as he moved across the dance floor. He could make out Nori and his new friends at the side of the dance floor.
Without missing a beat, he danced towards them and caught the arm of Nori.
"Asking me so bashfully whether I can dance but what about you, Master Nori?"
Nori made a strangled noise but let himself be pulled along.
"I didn't enjoy the song."
"Oh, no such thing, Master Nori!" Bilbo huffed a laugh and pulled the dwarf further onto the dance floor. A laugh escaped Fíli, who was standing beside Nori and within a second Nori's hand had grabbed Fíli's sleeve, pulling him along as well. With a wide grin, Bilbo soon noticed that he was pulling four dwarves with him onto the dance floor.
"I don't know how to dance to this song!" Ori said helplessly.
"Take each other's hands," Bilbo chuckled, one hand already in Nori's and the other outstretched towards Kíli. "We will keep it easy at first."
Kíli took hold of Bilbo's hand and the hobbit gently began to pull Kíli with him as he started to move in a circular motion. Luckily, Nori seemed to understand without much explanation and soon they were dancing in circles. With each round, it seemed that the dwarves and especially Ori, relaxed more and more into the dance. Even a small smile tugged at Ori's lips.
"And now come closer together," Bilbo said, a wide grin on his lips, as he pulled Nori and Kíli closer, raising his hand. The others followed and when all their connected hands met in the middle, Bilbo heard a light giggle from Ori. Fíli's eyes landed shortly on the youngest dwarf, a certain softness in his eyes and Bilbo's grin spread even wider.
"With the next change in the music, we will make the circle bigger again and then we will do something even more exciting," Bilbo explained as a giggle left his mouth.
A huffed laugh came from Nori just as they increased the size of the circle. Bilbo let them dance for another round until he let go of Nori's hand.
"What are you doing, Master Baggins?" Nori asked, one eyebrow raised. Instead of answering, he slipped under Nori's and Fíli's joint hands, pulling Kíli along. The young dwarf let out an excited laugh as he followed Bilbo. One after the other, Bilbo's dance companions ducked under Nori's and Fíli's hands and followed him.
For a long moment, Bilbo lost himself in the music and just danced, leading his dance companions across the dance floor.
Far too soon, the music changed into a slower song and Bilbo did so as well. He stopped at the edge of the dance floor and his dance companions did the same.
"I will need something to drink," Bilbo huffed, fanning with his hands some cold air towards him.
"That fast out of breath, Master Baggins?" Fíli laughed softly.
"I'm not that young tween anymore, Fíli."
"Well, that..." Nori began with a sly grin, but then he stopped abruptly, staring at something behind Bilbo.
Bilbo raised one eyebrow but turned slowly as neither of the four dwarves in front of him said another word.
description: After an attempt on Mycroft's life, Greg refuses to leave the hospital until he's certain Mycroft will be alright.
pairing: Mycroft Holmes × Greg Lestrade
genre: pre-relationship, hospital, Mycroft got attacked, Greg is waiting, love confession, soft, happy ending, background investigation
prompt: "Maybe I'm just a fool who loves you." (Mystrade Monday Prompt #93 @mystradepromptsandscenarios)
word count: ~1.7 k
trigger warning: hospital, mentioning of guns, gun injury
Read this fic on AO3. Find my other Mystrade fanfic here.
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Greg tapped his phone against the palm of his hand repeatedly as his left leg bounced up and down. Everything in him urged him to get on his feet and walk but after the nurse behind the desk had scolded him the second time for doing just that, Greg forced himself to stay put.
A sigh escaped him, and he leaned his head against the wall behind him. Just for a moment, he closed his eyes and tried to calm himself. It felt as if he had been waiting for hours, when it was barely an hour.
The sound of his phone pulled Greg out of his thoughts. He answered the call even before opening his eyes.
"Yes?"
"We got him," Donovan said without beating around the bush.
"Still alive?"
"Of course." A laugh escaped Donovan. "Wanted to put a bullet in his head when he realised he was surrounded. Now he has a bullet in his shoulder and will definitely face justice." A breath trembled out of Greg.
"Thank you, Sally."
"Of course, boss. I know how much that Holmes means to you."
And even without seeing Sally, Greg knew she had a wide grin on her lips. A huffed laugh escaped Greg. Sometimes it seemed like she knew more than Greg himself did... but she wasn't wrong.
"Have you seen him yet?" Sally Donovan interrupted his thoughts. With a sigh, the salt-and-pepper-haired man shook his head.
"They won't let me in," he mumbled. "He didn't go into the OP room, though."
"But?"
For a moment, Greg only stared at the closed door in front of him.
"This whole thing... this... attack came so out of the blue."
"Good thing that man was rather bad at it," Sally said. "And that you had one of your Sherlock-centred meetings over a drink."
"We weren't supposed to meet this evening but one of Mycroft's appointments cancelled last minute..." His brows furrowed. "He wasn't supposed to be home at that time... how was that criminal able to know that Mycroft's plans changed?"
"I will look into it," Sally answered and Greg heard the soft rustling of paper. "Text me after you talk to your Holmes."
"He is not my Holmes–" Greg protested, but Sally had already ended the call.
With a sigh, Greg lowered the phone into his lap. His eyes landed on the closed door in front of him once more and he wondered just how long he would have to wait until he could walk through that door.
Just then, as if something otherworldly had mercy on him, the door opened and a woman in a doctor's white coat and a nurse exited the room. Greg stood and tried to glance at the room but all he could see was Anthea. He took a step towards the door.
"Can I–?" The salt-and-pepper-haired man asked. Anthea nodded.
"Not for too long though. The meds are making him pretty tired."
Finally, Greg stepped through the door. He had just walked past Anthea, when he stopped once more.
"They got him. Sally is working on something... maybe you can help her?"
Anthea looked at him for another heartbeat before she began to smile with a certain sparkle in her eyes.
"Of course." She grabbed her jacket and closed the door behind herself, already tapping something on her phone.
Slowly, Greg turned towards Mycroft. The government official had his eyes closed and looked like he was already asleep. There was a bandage around his left arm where the attacker had shot him. Another bandage was around his head from when the attacker had changed tactics after he had missed the shot and decided to just hit Mycroft with the gun instead. Once more, Greg wondered how badly this would have ended had he not had his gun with him. He had missed the attacker but at least it had been enough to scare him away. A small sigh escaped Greg's lips as he stepped closer.
When Greg stopped next to Mycroft, the other man blinked his eyes open.
"Detective Inspector?" Mycroft's voice didn't sound as sharp as it had just a few hours ago and Greg didn't like that.
"We changed to first names a few months ago, didn't we, Mycroft?" Greg asked, a loop-sided smile on his lips but his heart was starting to beat faster in his chest. Mycroft blinked once, twice, before he nodded.
"Of course, Gregory."
"How are you?" Greg whispered, eyes fixed on Mycroft's bandaged arm. A low huff escaped Mycroft's lips.
"I had worse," he explained. But when he changed his laying posture for mere millimetres a quiet whimper left his words.
"Do you need anything?" Greg asked immediately, gently touching Mycroft's shoulder.
"No, I don't—" the injured man grumbled. "What are you even doing here?"
Greg raised an eyebrow.
"I wanted to make sure that you are fine."
"Why?"
How can he sound so irritated? Greg wondered.
"Because I have seen you go down after the attack. Because that fucking scared the shit out of me. Because I care about you, Mycroft, even if you think that's impossible."
Another huff escaped Mycroft's lips as he turned his head away.
"I'm fine. There was no need to stay this long. It's past midnight now and you already had a long shift," he muttered as one of his hands fiddled with the blanket. "What a fool you are." Something hot started to bubble up in Greg and he clenched his hands.
"Well..." Greg hissed. "...maybe I'm just a fool who loves you." Finally, Mycroft turned his head towards Greg again. His eyes were wide, incredulous, and his mouth slightly parted.
"I beg your pardon?" Mycroft's voice was barely a whisper now. A slow, tired smile spread on Greg's lips and a sigh left his lips.
"Maybe I'm a fool in love, but I'm not a fool to love you." Greg kept his voice just as quiet as Mycroft had a few seconds ago. "I understand if you don't feel the same and don't want to continue seeing me. Just know, I stayed because I deeply care for you. I would have waited all night and the next day just to see that you are alright."
Silence filled the room for a moment as Mycroft only stared at the salt-and-pepper-haired man.
"I..." Mycroft began in the end, his eyes never resting on one spot, "...never noticed." A chuckle escaped Greg's lips and he shook his head lightly.
"That's a surprise," he uttered and slowly let himself sink onto the edge of the hospital bed. "John was the first to notice. Anthea was probably suspecting something since last Christmas and Sally call you 'my Holmes' for two years now."
"Good God, did everyone but me knows?" Mycroft complained with a light huff. Greg chuckled once more.
"Probably."
A tiny whine escaped Mycroft's throat as he closed his eyes for a second.
"Well, that is rather embarrassing, isn't it?"
"Only if you make it so," the salt-and-pepper-haired man responded. Once more, Mycroft only looked at Greg before he nodded slowly.
Just when Mycroft's lips parted as if to say something, the door opened and without thinking, Greg turned, standing up abruptly as his hand landed on his gun.
"It's only me," Anthea stated. With an apologising grin, Greg let his hand fall from his gun. Anthea stepped further into the room and closed the door behind her. She took a deep breath as if to brace herself for the next words. "We suspect we have a mole and because you, Mr Holmes, were the target, it would be best if you relocate to your summer house until the threat is eliminated." An outrageous sound left Mycroft's lips.
"I will not do such a thing!"
"You can and you will!" Greg hissed, a tight pull in his chest. "What if next time the attacker isn't as incompetent as that one today?"
"But—" Mycroft tried to protest but when Greg raised a brow he stopped and let out sigh. He turned his attention back to Anthea. "I will take the lake house and I will be informed about every step."
"Of course, Mr Holmes." She turned and gave Greg one last nod. "Detective Inspector."
"Good night, Anthea." With a few long steps Anthea was at the door again and slipped through.
For a few heartbeats, Greg could only hear their shared breathing. Then, Mycroft cleared his throat and Greg turned his attention back towards the man in the hospital bed. The government official swallowed hard before he opened his mouth to speak.
"So, I am 'your Holmes' then?" Mycroft asked softly. Greg's heart jumped in his chest.
"Sally is teasing me with that," Greg explained. "I can tell her to stop if you want." A soft chuckle escaped Mycroft's lips.
"I will let it pass if I can call you 'my Lestrade'."
Greg blinked once, twice, before a wide grin spread on his lips.
"Is that so?" Greg asked, sitting down at the edge of the hospital bed. Mycroft's hand moved closer to Greg's hand, slowly connecting them as he hummed softly.
"Will you come with me to my lake house?" Mycroft asked after another heartbeat. A sigh escaped Greg's lips.
"I have work."
"Obviously, this can be arranged if you want," the government official stated with an eye roll. "And I will need someone to protect me." Greg started to chuckle.
"We both know that you can defend yourself just right."
"Touché," Mycroft said with a nod. "But I would like someone to talk to... maybe even someone to warm that comfortable but always cold bed with?" Greg's chest started to warm and he nodded.
"I would very much like that."
A soft smile spread on Mycroft's lips and he squeezed Greg's hand.
"Good."
Greg returned Mycroft's smile and watched him for a long moment. It seemed that the other man finally lost the fight against sleep. Mycroft's eyes fell shut several times before they stayed closed and his breath calmed.
Greg raised their intertwined hands and pressed a feather-light kiss on Mycroft's hand before he pulled a chair closer, settling into it. Only minutes later, Greg himself drifted into sleep.
The game is to write a flash fic this weekend and post it here (or with a link to the fic on AO3) on Monday with the hashtag Mystrade Monday.
Flash fiction is a complete story that is less than 1,000 words. 360mg is complete fic of 360 words with the last two beginning with “M” and “G” in any order. Please spread the word.
Hot tip: if you tag @mystradepromptsandscenarios , we’ll reblog it.
Hello, Hello! If you could get a TV show or shows to be produced and aired, what would it/they be?
I have so many ideas for fiction ones but my two favorite ideas are not fiction story based. I would love to be able to make a show that is basically animal friendly renovations. Like designing cat walls, catios, aviaries, ponds, gardens, fencing, just all the things for all the pets. The second that I would love to do is star in a show that showcases weddings and wedding traditions from across the world. It's definitely a more selfish one because I want to be dressed up in all the pretty things and in all the ways and get to remarry my partner over and over.
*Asks are sent for fun, no pressure on answering at all or quickly.
Uhhh that's such an interesting question and also quite a difficult one haha 🤔 (and thank you sooooo much for this "ask me anything")
I love your two ideas! Especially the second one, because I think it would help a lot of people to understand each other better. Learning about others' traditions can help so much in understanding each other. 🥰
Personally, I would absolutely love a soft queer TV show with a lot of yearning but with a happy ending obviously!!!!! We need more of that for queer people! Maybe that's a bit boring, but I don't really care, haha.
I just watched the German crime show "Kohlrabenschwarz" produced by Paramount+ and are absolutely devastated that Paramount+ cancelled all German productions so I would definitely produce the next few seasons!
Oh, and I would love to have the novella "This Is How You Lose The Time War" by Amal El-Mohtar and Max Gladstone made into a show. The world's the two characters are in sound all so interesting and as someone who can't really "see" the fictional world while reading, it would be so cool to see them in a show if you know what I mean. 😊
story description: Bilbo tells Kíli a little about flowers. What he didn't expect was how seriously the young dwarf would take their conversation. Soon three young dwarves are up to something Bilbo can't quite figure out. And then there is a certain blue-eyed dwarf who seems to misunderstand him at every turn.
pairing: Bilbo Baggins × Thorin Oakenshield
chapter word count: 1.9 k
Wanna read Chapter 2 on AO3? Find the "Of Flowers and Stones" Masterlist here.
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When Bilbo woke the next time, the first thing he noticed was the warmth that surrounded him. A sigh escaped the hobbit and he pulled his blanket up to his ears. Then he heard Bombur snoring and the occasional grumbling of Dwalin. A small whine escaped his lips. He was in Rivendell and not Bag End.
Slowly, Bilbo's eyes fluttered open and none other than Thorin came into view before him. The hobbit sucked in a breath. His eyes were wide open now. Thorin lay next to the hobbit on his own bedding, close enough for Bilbo to feel the dwarf's breath on his hand.
His eyes drifted.
And he found it intertwined with Thorin's. The dwarf's hand was warm and slightly bigger than Bilbo's own. It felt a bit rough against the hobbit's skin, probably from all the hard work Thorin had done with these hands. It let Bilbo wonder whether those hands could also be gentle.
A sigh let Bilbo freeze. When he felt Thorin's grip tightening slightly in his sleep, he pressed his eyes together. The dwarf next to him began to stir and Bilbo did not dare to move, too afraid to draw any attention towards him. There was some rustling and it sounded like Thorin had sat up. Their still intertwined hands shifted.
For a moment, nothing happened.
Then a soft groan came from Thorin, followed by a few fast but quiet words in Khuzdûl. And even though Bilbo didn't understand a word, it sounded oddly like swearing. The grip around his hand loosened and he was already starting to miss the warmth of their connection. His hand was directed onto the ground with a gentleness Bilbo had not expected. Thorin's fingers hovered mere millimetres above his hand for another heartbeat. A sigh, so quiet Bilbo nearly missed it, left Thorin's lips and the fingers slowly withdrew. There was some more rustling before slow footsteps went away.
Bilbo didn't move for another ten breaths before he blinked his eyes open again. Thorin was nowhere to be seen. The hobbit pushed himself up. His eyes fell onto the hand that had held Thorin's just minutes ago. It still felt as though their hands were still connected.
With a bit more force than necessary, Bilbo shook his head and rubbed his hands together. He would not find sleep again.
His stomach began to grumble and the hobbit wondered whether he could dare to sneak into Elrond's kitchen. With a hand on his stomach, he stood and tiptoed out of their resting room. With a soft huff, he noticed just how much of the comfortable softness he had lost since leaving the shire.
He had found the kitchen soon, and after some struggling, was boiling some water for tea. A soft melody began to form in his throat as he smelled every tea the elves had. After he had sniffed the sixth one, he came back to the first one. When the water started to boil, Bilbo transferred the hot water into a teapot, nearly as large as his head and added his chosen tea to it. As he waited for his tea to be ready, he sat down in the chair he had stood on. He let his legs swing, the soft melody still on his lips.
An elf stepped in and stopped in his tracks. Bilbo remembered vaguely that Elrond had introduced him as one of the most skilled cooks in Rivendell.
"I hope it's alright I came here and made myself some tea."
"Of course, Master Baggins," the elf said, his voice deep and smooth. "As a guest of Elrond, you are welcome to walk wherever you please."
A sigh escaped Bilbo and he nodded. A soft grumbling of his stomach filled the room. Bilbo felt his cheeks warming. Even his ears felt hot.
"Would you like some honey nut cake?"
The hobbit's mouth watered.
"You have some?"
A smile tugged at the elf's lips.
"You would be surprised how many different things lie in our pantry," he said and walked through a different door. Curious, Bilbo leaned forward in his seat, but the elf stepped back into the kitchen only seconds later. He balanced two pieces of honey nut cake and an apple on a plate.
"Thank you," Bilbo muttered. The elf set the plate in front of the hobbit.
"You may call me Calenion, Master Baggins." Bilbo's smile widened as he nodded.
"Then feel free to call me Bilbo, Calenion." Calenion nodded, a smile still present on his lips and stepped aside. It seemed as if he was starting to prepare breakfast. Bilbo watched him for a moment longer before he turned his attention back to the food.
As Bilbo enjoyed his honey nut cake and apple, more and more elves arrived. Soon, the kitchen was filled with quiet Sindarin. And even after Bilbo had finished eating, he stayed seated and watched them work, wondering once more whether he would be allowed to cook or bake something himself. He missed it. Cooking just for the sake of cooking and not to feed fourteen other hungry mouths on the road.
After his second breakfast, Bilbo decided to see what the others of the company were doing. The hallway was quiet as he took a turn, walking in a direction still unknown to him. He had always thought his smial had been large, but Elrond's house was bigger than anything Bilbo had ever seen. It would probably take more than a week before one could walk these halls without getting lost. A grin tugged at Bilbo's lips. For Thorin, it would probably take even longer not to get lost.
The hobbit had just passed a door when he heard soft chattering in Khuzdûl. One particular word let Bilbo stop. He had heard the word 'malkun*' more than once during their journey and even as the dwarves tried their best to keep their language a secret, Bilbo was not stupid. It had taken him exactly three days until he had realised that 'malkun' was somehow referring to him. Dwalin had mumbled it just as much as Thorin used the word burglar for Bilbo instead of his real name.
Bilbo peeked into the room. The gentle smell of old paper and the warm sunlight peeking through the windows welcomed him.
"I see you have found the library," he said with a grin. Kíli flinched and turned his head sharply. At the same time, Ori let out a surprised scream and Kíli slammed the book shut that they had all been studying.
"Dear me, you look like you have done something forbidden." He stepped in slowly, his grin widening as his eyes fell on the small illustration of a flower on the spine of the book.
"We haven't heard you arrive," Ori said, his hands smoothing the pullover.
"Please forgive me." Bilbo stopped next to the youngest dwarf in the company and lay a hand on his shoulder. "Have you found what you have been looking for?" Kíli's eyes darted to his older brother. Fíli cleared his throat and then nodded.
"We will only need to..." Fíli stopped mid-sentence. He cleared his throat. "Yes, we found what we were looking for." The smile on Bilbo's lips widened and he nodded. For a moment, he watched the three young dwarves, wondering what exactly they were planning. By the looks they shared, Bilbo would know rather sooner than later.
With a nod, he turned and walked further into the library. It was strange to do nothing after weeks of walking and struggling to survive. Bilbo was still surprised that Thorin had announced a longer rest than just one night. It was the first time Bilbo had witnessed such a thing.
Out of the corner of his eye, a book caught his attention. It sat heavily in his hands when he pulled it from the shelf. For a moment, Bilbo laid the book on the armchair before he followed suit and crawled onto it. A sigh escaped his lips as he settled into the cushions. He pulled the book onto his thighs, opened it and began to read about different kinds of stones.
Time had passed rather quickly as Bilbo read about stones, gems and crystals. After some time, a dangerous thought had begun to spread inside his mind. He didn't even know why his thoughts suddenly went wild and decided to imagine what would happen if Bilbo gifted a certain dwarf a stone. It would most likely result in him being fired from the company. He might have hoped for something like that in the first few days of their journey. Now though, he feared the moment Thorin might change his mind about him. Thorin was clearly thinking about it.
Bilbo took the last sip from his afternoon tea, which had already gotten cold. He closed the book and pushed it from his lap. With a huff, he slid from the armchair and placed the book where he had taken it from. He heard soft laughter here and there coming from the balconies and sitting rooms as he walked towards the company's restrooms. Once more since arriving in Rivendell Bilbo wondered what it would be like to stay here.
"Master Baggins," Nori said out of nowhere, which made Bilbo flinch.
"Dear me," Bilbo uttered and turned his head towards the dwarf, his hand over his heart. Nori was leaning against a pillar, his arms crossed over his chest. A grin spread on Nori's lips.
"You really are rather jumpy for a burglar," he chuckled and pushed himself away from the pillar. Bilbo let out a snort and shrugged. He knew that Nori, as a former thief, had probably seen through the lie Gandalf had told the company about him within the first few days of their journey.
Nori stopped next to him, his brown eyes seemed to scan over the hobbit's face.
"The elves invited all of us to an-", the dwarf said and waved one hand in the air as he continued "-evening celebration." Bilbo was all for celebration, for connecting with others and for having a joyful evening, but his bones still felt heavy from the weeks-long travel, even after a good night's sleep. He was not sure how long he would manage to keep his eyes open.
"So soon after yesterday?" the hobbit asked, because the shared dinner with the elves was close to a celebration. Nori chuckled.
"Aren't Hobbits all for a joyful party?"
Bilbo rolled his eyes but he couldn't be mad at Nori.
"Hobbits are also all for a comfortable evening."
"Well, get ready for music and some dancing," the dwarf said, a wide grin on his lips. "You can dance, right?"
"Oh, you unbelievable dwarf, can I dance? Of course, Master Nori! I can not believe you even considered I might not be able to dance." Bilbo huffed and pressed one hand against his hip. "Unbelievable!"
A deep belly laugh escaped Nori's lips and his eyes were shining.
"Please forgive me, Master Baggins," he said, his voice light. Bilbo stared at the dwarf before a smile spread on his lips, despite his best effort to hide it.
"Yes, yes, of course," he huffed half-heartedly, the smile never leaving his lips.
With a grin, Nori turned and started to walk. It only took a second before Bilbo followed him.
story description: Bilbo tells Kíli a little about flowers. What he didn't expect was how seriously the young dwarf would take their conversation. Soon three young dwarves are up to something Bilbo can't quite figure out. And then there is a certain blue-eyed dwarf who seems to misunderstand him at every turn.
pairing: Bilbo Baggins × Thorin Oakenshield
chapter word count: 1.9 k
Wanna read Chapter 2 on AO3? Find the "Of Flowers and Stones" Masterlist here.
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When Bilbo woke the next time, the first thing he noticed was the warmth that surrounded him. A sigh escaped the hobbit and he pulled his blanket up to his ears. Then he heard Bombur snoring and the occasional grumbling of Dwalin. A small whine escaped his lips. He was in Rivendell and not Bag End.
Slowly, Bilbo's eyes fluttered open and none other than Thorin came into view before him. The hobbit sucked in a breath. His eyes were wide open now. Thorin lay next to the hobbit on his own bedding, close enough for Bilbo to feel the dwarf's breath on his hand.
His eyes drifted.
And he found it intertwined with Thorin's. The dwarf's hand was warm and slightly bigger than Bilbo's own. It felt a bit rough against the hobbit's skin, probably from all the hard work Thorin had done with these hands. It let Bilbo wonder whether those hands could also be gentle.
A sigh let Bilbo freeze. When he felt Thorin's grip tightening slightly in his sleep, he pressed his eyes together. The dwarf next to him began to stir and Bilbo did not dare to move, too afraid to draw any attention towards him. There was some rustling and it sounded like Thorin had sat up. Their still intertwined hands shifted.
For a moment, nothing happened.
Then a soft groan came from Thorin, followed by a few fast but quiet words in Khuzdûl. And even though Bilbo didn't understand a word, it sounded oddly like swearing. The grip around his hand loosened and he was already starting to miss the warmth of their connection. His hand was directed onto the ground with a gentleness Bilbo had not expected. Thorin's fingers hovered mere millimetres above his hand for another heartbeat. A sigh, so quiet Bilbo nearly missed it, left Thorin's lips and the fingers slowly withdrew. There was some more rustling before slow footsteps went away.
Bilbo didn't move for another ten breaths before he blinked his eyes open again. Thorin was nowhere to be seen. The hobbit pushed himself up. His eyes fell onto the hand that had held Thorin's just minutes ago. It still felt as though their hands were still connected.
With a bit more force than necessary, Bilbo shook his head and rubbed his hands together. He would not find sleep again.
His stomach began to grumble and the hobbit wondered whether he could dare to sneak into Elrond's kitchen. With a hand on his stomach, he stood and tiptoed out of their resting room. With a soft huff, he noticed just how much of the comfortable softness he had lost since leaving the shire.
He had found the kitchen soon, and after some struggling, was boiling some water for tea. A soft melody began to form in his throat as he smelled every tea the elves had. After he had sniffed the sixth one, he came back to the first one. When the water started to boil, Bilbo transferred the hot water into a teapot, nearly as large as his head and added his chosen tea to it. As he waited for his tea to be ready, he sat down in the chair he had stood on. He let his legs swing, the soft melody still on his lips.
An elf stepped in and stopped in his tracks. Bilbo remembered vaguely that Elrond had introduced him as one of the most skilled cooks in Rivendell.
"I hope it's alright I came here and made myself some tea."
"Of course, Master Baggins," the elf said, his voice deep and smooth. "As a guest of Elrond, you are welcome to walk wherever you please."
A sigh escaped Bilbo and he nodded. A soft grumbling of his stomach filled the room. Bilbo felt his cheeks warming. Even his ears felt hot.
"Would you like some honey nut cake?"
The hobbit's mouth watered.
"You have some?"
A smile tugged at the elf's lips.
"You would be surprised how many different things lie in our pantry," he said and walked through a different door. Curious, Bilbo leaned forward in his seat, but the elf stepped back into the kitchen only seconds later. He balanced two pieces of honey nut cake and an apple on a plate.
"Thank you," Bilbo muttered. The elf set the plate in front of the hobbit.
"You may call me Calenion, Master Baggins." Bilbo's smile widened as he nodded.
"Then feel free to call me Bilbo, Calenion." Calenion nodded, a smile still present on his lips and stepped aside. It seemed as if he was starting to prepare breakfast. Bilbo watched him for a moment longer before he turned his attention back to the food.
As Bilbo enjoyed his honey nut cake and apple, more and more elves arrived. Soon, the kitchen was filled with quiet Sindarin. And even after Bilbo had finished eating, he stayed seated and watched them work, wondering once more whether he would be allowed to cook or bake something himself. He missed it. Cooking just for the sake of cooking and not to feed fourteen other hungry mouths on the road.
After his second breakfast, Bilbo decided to see what the others of the company were doing. The hallway was quiet as he took a turn, walking in a direction still unknown to him. He had always thought his smial had been large, but Elrond's house was bigger than anything Bilbo had ever seen. It would probably take more than a week before one could walk these halls without getting lost. A grin tugged at Bilbo's lips. For Thorin, it would probably take even longer not to get lost.
The hobbit had just passed a door when he heard soft chattering in Khuzdûl. One particular word let Bilbo stop. He had heard the word 'malkun*' more than once during their journey and even as the dwarves tried their best to keep their language a secret, Bilbo was not stupid. It had taken him exactly three days until he had realised that 'malkun' was somehow referring to him. Dwalin had mumbled it just as much as Thorin used the word burglar for Bilbo instead of his real name.
Bilbo peeked into the room. The gentle smell of old paper and the warm sunlight peeking through the windows welcomed him.
"I see you have found the library," he said with a grin. Kíli flinched and turned his head sharply. At the same time, Ori let out a surprised scream and Kíli slammed the book shut that they had all been studying.
"Dear me, you look like you have done something forbidden." He stepped in slowly, his grin widening as his eyes fell on the small illustration of a flower on the spine of the book.
"We haven't heard you arrive," Ori said, his hands smoothing the pullover.
"Please forgive me." Bilbo stopped next to the youngest dwarf in the company and lay a hand on his shoulder. "Have you found what you have been looking for?" Kíli's eyes darted to his older brother. Fíli cleared his throat and then nodded.
"We will only need to..." Fíli stopped mid-sentence. He cleared his throat. "Yes, we found what we were looking for." The smile on Bilbo's lips widened and he nodded. For a moment, he watched the three young dwarves, wondering what exactly they were planning. By the looks they shared, Bilbo would know rather sooner than later.
With a nod, he turned and walked further into the library. It was strange to do nothing after weeks of walking and struggling to survive. Bilbo was still surprised that Thorin had announced a longer rest than just one night. It was the first time Bilbo had witnessed such a thing.
Out of the corner of his eye, a book caught his attention. It sat heavily in his hands when he pulled it from the shelf. For a moment, Bilbo laid the book on the armchair before he followed suit and crawled onto it. A sigh escaped his lips as he settled into the cushions. He pulled the book onto his thighs, opened it and began to read about different kinds of stones.
Time had passed rather quickly as Bilbo read about stones, gems and crystals. After some time, a dangerous thought had begun to spread inside his mind. He didn't even know why his thoughts suddenly went wild and decided to imagine what would happen if Bilbo gifted a certain dwarf a stone. It would most likely result in him being fired from the company. He might have hoped for something like that in the first few days of their journey. Now though, he feared the moment Thorin might change his mind about him. Thorin was clearly thinking about it.
Bilbo took the last sip from his afternoon tea, which had already gotten cold. He closed the book and pushed it from his lap. With a huff, he slid from the armchair and placed the book where he had taken it from. He heard soft laughter here and there coming from the balconies and sitting rooms as he walked towards the company's restrooms. Once more since arriving in Rivendell Bilbo wondered what it would be like to stay here.
"Master Baggins," Nori said out of nowhere, which made Bilbo flinch.
"Dear me," Bilbo uttered and turned his head towards the dwarf, his hand over his heart. Nori was leaning against a pillar, his arms crossed over his chest. A grin spread on Nori's lips.
"You really are rather jumpy for a burglar," he chuckled and pushed himself away from the pillar. Bilbo let out a snort and shrugged. He knew that Nori, as a former thief, had probably seen through the lie Gandalf had told the company about him within the first few days of their journey.
Nori stopped next to him, his brown eyes seemed to scan over the hobbit's face.
"The elves invited all of us to an-", the dwarf said and waved one hand in the air as he continued "-evening celebration." Bilbo was all for celebration, for connecting with others and for having a joyful evening, but his bones still felt heavy from the weeks-long travel, even after a good night's sleep. He was not sure how long he would manage to keep his eyes open.
"So soon after yesterday?" the hobbit asked, because the shared dinner with the elves was close to a celebration. Nori chuckled.
"Aren't Hobbits all for a joyful party?"
Bilbo rolled his eyes but he couldn't be mad at Nori.
"Hobbits are also all for a comfortable evening."
"Well, get ready for music and some dancing," the dwarf said, a wide grin on his lips. "You can dance, right?"
"Oh, you unbelievable dwarf, can I dance? Of course, Master Nori! I can not believe you even considered I might not be able to dance." Bilbo huffed and pressed one hand against his hip. "Unbelievable!"
A deep belly laugh escaped Nori's lips and his eyes were shining.
"Please forgive me, Master Baggins," he said, his voice light. Bilbo stared at the dwarf before a smile spread on his lips, despite his best effort to hide it.
"Yes, yes, of course," he huffed half-heartedly, the smile never leaving his lips.
With a grin, Nori turned and started to walk. It only took a second before Bilbo followed him.
