I think I'm gonna rewrite the outlaws and lawman fan fiction, I'm somewhat unhappy with it and have been for a while, it's why I've not worked on it, but first I'm gonna try and finish it.
Been trying to experiment with different styles and brushes as I think I’m finally getting comfortable with drawing digitally!
Here’s a wee quick-y I did the other day of Thorin and Dwalin, inspired by the fic I’ve been messed up on recently, ‘Outlaws and Lawmen’ by NostalgicNarrator.
Might refine this in the future, but we’ll see - I had a ton of fun with this though, who knew western inspired stuff would be this fun to draw :)
(This is a re-upload of a post from earlier - Dwalin’s hands were bugging me 😩)
Thorin is relentless when it comes to a game of chase it seems, but Bilbo is not one for losing.
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Note: howdy y'all, Listen, listen to me, I normally have my friend, @midnightstar789, help me go through and make sure I'm not crazy and spelling everything like a crazy person, but they're busy with their own really cool stuff so I'm just gonna post this.
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Bilbo took a quiet breath before tilting his head. “Well, howdy sheriff. How’s them ribs?”
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Bilbo grinned at the sheriff despite his face being hidden by his bandanna. It didn't matter; he knew Thorin could feel his grin.
“Shut up,” Thorin snapped, his voice low and strained, and it did nothing but make Bilbo grin wider.
It was sick, to find joy in this, Bilbo knew that, but there was some justice in it. He felt the sick joy in how the man who caused all this trouble was hurt. Bilbo finely tilted his head, his tone was mocking as he spoke. “Oh dear, did I strike a nerve, Sheriff?”
Thorin’s voice was sharp as he tightened his grip on his gun, he nearly snarled as he spoke. “I will shoot you.”
But Bilbo just tisked, raising a brow as exaggerated as he could manage. “You’d shoot an unarmed man? Now, Sheriff. That ain’t very lawful of ya.”
Bilbo kept himself firmly planted in front of Frodo. The poor boy shook like a leaf in an Autumn wind, Bilbo could feel it when the boy clung to Bilbo’s arm, and the outlaw couldn’t help but to look at Frodo.
He looked rough, beaten and bruised. Too young for this, that's what he was, Bilbo was too and now his nephew was in this more than he should have been.
Frodo should be home, safe and warm but he wasn't, and it was Bilbo's fault. He knew lawmen didn’t care, they did as they pleased, with little to no consequence.
And if they could loop a rope around your neck, or pump you full of lead, they would. It's more often the latter, sheriffs are never satisfied with the outcome of a rope.
With the click. A hammer of a gun being primed. Bilbo’s attention snapped back to Thorin and the gun the sheriff held as quick as lightning.
He felt Frodo’s grip tighten.
“Stand up,” Thorin ordered, “now!” The sheriff growled, gesturing sharply with his gun.
Bilbo obeyed, he was no fool, he knew better than to hesitate, sheriffs had itchy fingers. Quick to shoot. And he wasn’t about to get his brains blown out in front of his boy who shouldn't even be here.
Bilbo’s mind began to raced. The thumping of his heart like rabbits feet, thumping and thudding, his body urged him to run, begged him to, but how? How the hell is he supposed to get Frodo out of this?
His eyes narrowed. He opened his mouth, hoping he could somehow talk his way out, to buy Frodo time.
He could cause a distraction.
Frodo could run.
But before he could even take a full breath, a blur crashed into Thorin.
The sheriff hit the ground hard with a grunt of pain. The gun fired–a deafening crack splitting the air. Frodo yelped, covering his ears.
Nori scrambled to his feet, lunging for the fallen revolver. He snatched it up with a growl “God damn it all, Bilbo!” Nori hissed as he pointed the gun at Thorin, the sheriff when he began to struggled back up.
The deputy wasn’t far. He’d have heard the shot. And that thought jolted Bilbo into motion, “Go–go, go!” Bilbo sputtered, grabbing Frodo’s arm and shoving him forward.
Frodo stumbled, his legs moving before his mind could catch up. Bilbo grabbed the back of his nephew’s shirt, keeping him upright as they ran.
Boots pounded against the earth. The firelight faded into the dark.
Frodo panted beside him, struggling to keep up. Bilbo knew he had to make a choice.
“Nori!” he called over his shoulder as the other man caught up. “Take Frodo!”
“What?!” Nori barked, glancing at Bilbo as he tucked the stolen gun away.
Bilbo turned, shoving Frodo toward him. Nori barely caught the boy.
“Take him,” Bilbo repeated. “Get to the horses! Get him home–he needs help.”
They skidded to a stop. Nori tightened his grip on Frodo’s arm, steadying him.
“Are you out of your goddamn mind!?” Nori snapped.
“No time to argue!” Bilbo shot back. He turned on his heel. “Get him to a doctor, I'll meet you soon!”
“Uncle–!” Frodo’s voice cracked, and Bilbo faltered just for a second.
But he couldn’t stop.
He turned, yanking his bandanna down and running backward just long enough to flash Frodo a grin.
“You know me, my boy!” he shouted as he pulled my bandanna back up and turned away. “Ain’t no lawman alive can catch me!”
“But, Uncle–!” Frodo’s voice was lost as Bilbo slipped away, down the hill, into the dark.
He had to keep them safe, he promised he’d keep them safe.
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Nori stood there a moment watching Bilbo slip into the darkness. His heart thundered, he couldn’t leave Bilbo-
But when he looked at Frodo, the boy was shaking, struggling to stand and he looked so…tired.
Nori cursed himself, cursed Bilbo and damn it he cursed that sheriff and his stupid deputy. With a groan of frustration Nori moved to pick up Frodo and hurry for the horses.
The reaction was immediate. Frodo squirmed and kicked. “No, No, No! Let me go! I can’t- Mister Nori please!” Frodo begged.
“Shh- boy, they’ll hear ya!” Nori whispered roughly and struggled to keep hold of the boy as he hurried through forest and brush. He huffed and grunted before tossing the boy over his shoulder properly.
“No! No! Please! I can’t-” Frodo called again. Sounding near tears.
“Listen to me, you need help.” Nori gritted his teeth as Frodo elbowed him in the head- not hard, never hard. The boy didn’t have that type of hate in him. Not for anyone.
Nori shifted him and they stopped dead. Nori sat Frodo down roughly, yanking his own bandanna down so he wasn’t muffled as he spoke.
And he opened his mouth, to yell, or talk as loud as he could without alerting anyone to where they were. But then he saw the boy.
The way he looked behind Nori, trying to see if he could see his uncle despite being a good distance away by now. Nori sigh’s and lets his grip loosen.
Nori moved so he was looking Frodo more in the eyes now. He took the boy's shoulder and squeezed it gently, he opened his mouth to speak, to say something, anything.
But then Frodo looked up at Nori and Nori squeezed his shoulder again.
“He’s gonna be fine. Okay? I promise, he’s gonna be fine. But I need you to worry about you right now, Yeah? Can you do that?” Nori asked softly
And Frodo looked behind Nori one more time before nodding.
“Good lad.” He said as he turned around and offered to carry Frodo on his back like he used to do when the kid was younger.
Like Nori used to do with his little brother before…
Frodo accepted the offer and hugged his arms around Nori’s neck. Nori made sure he was good before carrying the lad like that all the way to the horses.
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Bilbo darted through the shadows of the underbrush, his heart slamming in his chest as he suddenly whipped around the other side of a tree.
Bilbo could hear one of the lawmen cuss and another stumble to turn and catch up. He didn't care which one was doing what, for all he knew it was only one of them chasing, all that mattered was; it slowed them down.
He just had to keep them on his trail, had to keep them far away from Nori and Frodo so they can get to the gulch.
The dark was making it nearly impossible to make out anything that wasn't lit in what little light the moon offered. And thought Bilbo couldn't see much, that meant that the lawmen couldn't either.
Bilbo looked behind him for a beat having lost the sound of footsteps entirely, he whipped around. 'Had I really lost them, what if they were going for Nori and my boy?' Bilbo thought, He had to–
Bilbo dodged out of the way of a hand swiping at him from behind a tree, he dodged again when the large hand surged forward at him. He could just make out the rough cut figure of Dwalin against the moonlight before being swiped at again like a cat.
Bilbo fumbled to duck and bolt down the holler, Bilbo let out a cry as he slid down a hill at breakneck speeds, pushing himself out of the way of the trees as he made it down the slope.
He could hear Dwalin stumbling, and Bilbo dared to look behind him for a beat; he was rewarded with the exhilarating sight of the now fully moonlit Deputy panting heavily at the top of the nearly straight up and down slope Bilbo decided to throw himself down.
This was it, he could lose the two bumbling idiots someone decided to dub law men here and head for the gulch, Nori and Frodo had to be nearly there by now.
As he reaches the bottom he pushes himself into a sprint. His boots slamming hard against the forest dirt. Trees blurred past Bilbo as he ran. He tried not to trip on roots or rocks.
He laughed to himself, chuckling excitedly.
Then, he was grabbed by the back of the shirt and slammed face first into the nearest tree, Bilbo grunted and did his best to look behind him and glare at the man who was pinning him against the tree.
And the only reason he could remotely tell it was the Sheriff who had him pinned was the face the man wheezed like an old miner. The sheriff grunted as he spoke “Looks like it's the end of the line for you Baggins.” Thorin's voice was strained, struggling.
Bilbo tried thrashed and kicked, to break the weirdly iron hold on his wrist pinning him to the tree. But the grip stayed and Thorin grunted again. “Stop– fightin– Damn it!”
Then an idea came, and Bilbo knew he'd kick himself later for it. Bilbo moved pushing himself back against the sheriff. “Wow, didn't think you like it like this sheriff~” Bilbo purred at the lawman cringing on the inside when the sheriff froze for a moment.
Bilbo took that opportunity to slam his head back into the sheriff's face and twist himself free and socking the man. As he was already holding his nose. The sheriff stumbled and Bilbo turned, stumbling as he tried to run. He got maybe two steps before he was shoved to the ground.
He stumbled once more, a little disoriented from the darkness the forest provided but thankful all the same. Bilbo turned to run, he made a break for the end of the trees, he knew this area, he could slip away. Just as he made it to the edge of the forest near an open meadow of familiar enough hills someone had pushed him down from behind.
Trying to roll his body so he wasn't face down in the dirt Bilbo did what he could to try and push the sheriff off or sock him in the mouth, punch him in. The ribs and try to scurry away.
He can't get caught, he's so close, he can almost see the glade-
Then he felt it, when his mask got yanked down when he tried to knock Thorin away. He felt a stone sink into the pits of his stomach.
Bilbo looked up at the wide eyed sheriff and stayed still, he wondered how hard he had to punch someone to make them forget.
Both of them just sat there a long moment, it felt like years to Bilbo- but it couldn't have been long. It was like the moment before a horse is let loose for a race.
Suddenly Bilbo realized how lost he felt and before his mind could really catch up entirely he was moving, trying to punch the sheriff- trying to do something, get away and make his peace before every law man in the country had a description of his face.
The sheriff caught his wrists though and pinned them down with a sudden fierce ness Bilbo-was slightly winded. Thorin's face was hard set in a scowl as he glared at Bilbo. Bilbo glared back
The glare didn't last long though, the sheriff's face shifted a bit and he kept looking away. Bilbo was tempted to say it seemed like embarrassment…
But then the bushes started to rustle and the sheriff moved quickly, so fast Bilbo wasn't entirely sure when his bandana was pulled back over his face hiding it.
Dwalin stumbled out of the woods putting his hands on his knees wheezing, “Lord all mighty- how the hell did you catch him, bastards fast-” Dwalin grunted entirely unaware of the now very clear to Bilbo, suggestive position.
Not that Bilbo had to worry long, Thorin moved him easily so his face was smushed against the ground and started trying his hands up with the rope from his side bag.
“I cut around the other side, I had a guy feeling he'd go this way…” Thorin grunted as he fished tying Bilbo up, he could still feel the heat on his cheeks. He tried to rub it away.
Dwalin grunted as he offered to help Thorin up, much to the Sheriff's relief he was starting to feel the burn in his ribs again. It was probably a bad idea to tackle the outlaw.
Dwalin moved to lug Bilbo up over his shoulder, the outlaw seemed to be less stunned stupid now as he started struggling, Dwalin ignored him as he started back towards the horses. “And what if he didn't come this way?”
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Thorin shrugged, “would have gotten away.” He said and followed his Deputy. The face of the outlaw came back into his mind and he tried to shake it out of his head
Dwalin grunted watching Thorin as he shook his head, “then what another few days wondering the west- your sister is gonna kill you”
Thorin grunted and waved his friend away, “yah yah” he said as the two of them continued back, “give me an. Ear-full later” he muttered.
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Note: thank you for reading, I'm sorry it was a short chapter and I will try and update any mistakes later, I just don't think I need to hold on to this for months till my friend isn't busy. Enjoy. And feel free to yell at me.
My favorite thing about living in the backwater of nowhere is when the power goes off randomly in the middle of the hottest part of the day and you can't even use the restroom because, no power = no water.
There are a lot of fanfiction where Thorin’s company finds out Bilbo’s age and goes feral, as well as a fair where Bilbo isn’t fully a hobbit. What if we combine the two?
Bilbo Is a half hobbit who has learned to hide all his features and such, and no one knows about it. Probably Gandalf doesn’t even know for this AU to work well. So, when Bilbo’s parents die, he is a child in his species terms, but a full grown adult in the hobbit terms.
Then you add the fact that the company after finding out his age starts treating him like a child. He is actually treated like his own age for once.Something that happens when you are treated like your own age when you are so used to being treated like an adult? You Have a few little breakdowns about how you were never treated kindly, and get extremely attached.
Gandalf explains the age thing, and everyone goes back to treating him how they used to, maybe a few people either not being convinced or just straight up treating him a little worse because they think he lied to them.
Then fast forward to either Mirkwood or Beorn’s house, and they find out about the other half of the DNA and they feel so incredibly fucking guilty. Gandalf should be very guilty as well and they should be one of the few times where Gandalf seems more human.
I want Bilbo nervously explaining about his other side after he gets out and hoping that they won’t hate him. I want his explanation to be cut off by someone hugging him. I want the company to have some breakdown about it, especially with the Royals. Maybe Fili and Kiki had a good relationship with Bilbo, treating him like a little brother for a while until they found out about how hobbits aged, and then just stopped talking to him as much after. Maybe Thorin had yelled at Bilbo after he found out, accusing him of lying to them. maybe just the three of them have been acting shitty after being really close with him.
I just want comfort and then hurt/comfort with large amount of groveling
Bilbo isn't sure where he is, or how he got there but he feels like he's forgetting something.
Note: hey y'all, hows it going? I made something, sorry for the long gap between content (●’◡’●)ﾉ enjoy the post
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In darkness sits forgotten things, where the cold settles and the silent whispers of the past gather like stormclouds. The chill of the void seeps into the bones of any living thing that tries and brave it.
Brave the darkness. He… he did that once… he thinks… he braved the cold darkness.. pale eyes watched him then leaving no corner of his soul untouched. But, this darkness was different, it felt endless, like an inky shroud, suffocating, heavy.
And yet, it feels as alive.
Like it was breathing around him…in warmth and knowledge he can feel but can't remember.
Like something familiar yet unknown, unseen but you can feel it all the same, and it knows, you know it’s there.
He…who is he…?
He can't remember, he knows he's supposed to remember…he was certain he was somebody once…
But he can't remember. Many things seemed to be missing from what he supposed should remember when he thought about if, if he could think.
He was sure he was meant to, meant to remember, meant to know. But he couldn't, not even what he was doing, if he ever was doing anything. Nor could he remember who he was or why he was, if he was ever anything.
There had to have been answers at one time, he knew there had, or perhaps he thought they should have been. But there wasn’t.
There wasn't anything, but there was everything. Only a deafening silence filled with whispers of everything at once. It all threatened to crush what little remained.
Then, suddenly, a light. It broke through the black like the first sunbeam after a long sea storm. And there he was. He could think more clearly.
Bilbo, that is who he is.
He was exactly himself, he always has been, and he was sure he was doing something. Something important. Something he had to do. He tried to remember what…
But he was left unsure…the unknown grasped at him sharply. How are you to remember who you are when you have nothing to go off of to begin with.
His mind called for memory he didn't have…but there was one thing, one thing he thought was from himself and the more the thought the more it filled every sense he was begging to realize he had.
A feeling.
The feeling, he was rather sure anyway, was what one might expect to get if they left their home quickly, so quickly that they were unsure if the stove was left lit while they ran to the market.
Then, something almost solid, it pulled him…somewhere, and swallowed him whole in its infinite warmth. It felt like home, of rolling hills and worn forgotten faces…
It warmed him, warmer than any fire could.
It muddled what was once there, with the warmth of home and Bilbo felt so, safe.
Safe, like when his father made a fine cup of tea for him and his mother in the colder months. It filled the empty spaces he had forgotten and he felt a kind sense of peace.
It was perfect, he felt as if this feeling was calling him, like how his mother always called him in for dinner when he played too late as a fawn.
So, he listened
And he opened his eyes.
Then looked down at his feet.
He saw green, felt the call of home. He never knew how much he missed the green.
Grass tickles at the cuffs of his breeches. He took a breath, slow and calm and felt all the pressure on his chest uncoiling slowly.
As he stood there soaking up sunlight like a flower that had been starved of it too long, he decided to look around at what could only be described as a beautiful garden.
He had seen gardens before, many in fact, but he had never seen something so brilliant and beautiful.
He still couldn’t rightfully remember what it was that he was doing to land him in such a strange predicament to begin with. And when he thought more on it a strange prick of panic swallowed him.
He would have likely stood there for hours, panicking over something he had no memory of if there had not come a voice, as soft as the wind yet as rich and true as the earth of the shire. “Ah, there you are, my dearest hobbit,”
And so, he looked for the owner, and there, standing near a tree was a beautiful lady of green, of life and all things living and growing. His lady, the wife of Mahâl.
She offered such a warm smile to him, such a smile that struck him as familiar despite not ever meeting her before.
He wondered briefly if that was because she was his maker or if it was because it reminded him of the smile his mother used to give him when he told her about his adventures.
She towered over him, very tall, he wondered how tall, taller than even Beorn most likely–
Beorn, that name sounded familiar…But, why–
Her voice was warm and familiar like a spring breeze. “Whatever are you doing here? Far too early for you, you know.”
But, Bilbo could only open and close his mouth, unsure of the answer or if he should even answer at all, he felt he looked like a fish pulled freshly from the Brandywine River.
Finally he managed to force himself to say, “M-M-My lady?” and as soon as he said it, he wanted to kick himself.
But, his lady only giggled at him softly, like wind chimes hung firm trees, beautiful and sweet, “But of course, dear. Who else would it be?” Yavanna said, she smiled gently and turned away.
She began to walk towards a table of carven stone settled kindly in a beautiful oak tree, as if it had grown around it. Once closer, Bilbo could see the ruins carved into it, angled sharp and jagged, dwarfish he thinks.
Dwarfs…no, no he didn’t feel right again. He was forgetting something, something very important. Bilbo opened his mouth to ask, he felt as if his lady would know. Why wouldn’t she? But he stopped as he watched his lady Yavanna pull a great tome from its resting place among a bookshelf of living wood.
“Let’s see what brings you here shall we?” Yavanna said, she looked at him and smiled before turning back to her tome. But, this smile, this smile did not reach her eyes, perhaps none of them have. She flipped through the pages.
He suddenly felt sick. He had to ask, he wanted to know, something was wrong, and his lady knew what.
“what…what was I–…” Bilbo’s voice cracked as he spoke, then stopped dead when he saw Yavanna’s face. She watched him from the corner of her eyes, face furrowed in a sad frown.
Like she had heard something she did not want to be true. Bilbo felt the rest of his question die in his throat. Yavanna turned more to him, He watched up at her as she shrunk to her knees like a leaf falling from a tree, beautifully graceful, “Bilbo, my flower-“
And he felt his chest and throat tightened, making it hard to breathe.
Had…had he even been breathing to begin with? He wasn't sure. He- How long had it been since he took a breath?
Suddenly his chest felt very cold, Why did he feel so dizzy!?
He-he needed air, air!
Gaping like a fish once more Bilbo struggled to find his words, “Where- what-” He grasped at his curls “what- happened!" He managed to form some kind of thought.
Yvanna held her hands up kindly and offered a calm smile. “It is alright little one, it is okay, breathe.” she sans as he gave him a knowing look, a knowing that stretched far beyond any age comprehensible to him.
She seemed unsure, unable to say…
“What happened” Bilbo echoed again he could feel his voice crack and his breath shake.
Yvanna watched him for a long moment, then she spoke, her voice sounded as if it too wanted to crack, but it did not. “Hobbits… Hobbits aren’t known for their swimming, my dearest sprout.” Her words and voice were soft, they were not meant to make him feel sick, yet they did.
It all struck him like a hammer on an anvil, it rang clear in his ears, distant and long. The dwarfs, how could he forget his dwarfs. How could he forget the Mirkwood prison, the barrels, the-
Yavanna’s voice came to him again, trying to drown his panicked thoughts, “it is alright my dear.” His lady continued softly, “Your dwarves are safe, they’ll get to their mountain, you needn’t to worry for them now.” She said.
…But Bilbo could hear her tone. Unsure, unknowing. Like a bigger loss was had then what he could possibly understand, but she continued all the same.
“Come, greet your friends and family in the garden.” Yvanna spoke as she moved her hand to him to like carry him.
Bilbo shook his head and stumbled away a step, and for once he cursed his large feet as he tripped over them and to the floor like a helpless fawn.
He couldn’t leave his dwarfs behind. They needed him. He had just broken them from Thranduil dungeon.
If he left them then surely they would be captured once again, he had a contract, after all, he needed to burgle a dragon!
A bloody dragon! The dwarfs can't do that; they can't be quiet if their lives depend on it and it does! “No!- No wait! No I can’t” Bilbo said as he grit his teeth.
“You must, dear.” Yavanna said, calmly and with a sense as if this wasn’t terrifying. Bilbo couldn't let her take him. His family could very well wait, they had the rest of for the rest of forever to see him again!
“No–!” Bilbo spoke louder, he cringed at his own voice cracking. “I can’t! My friends, they need me. I… I’m, please! They need me, they can’t–”
But Yavanna only watched him, her smile tender, her gaze filled with warmth. She reached for him calmly.
Bilbo moved again, scrambling to his feet and back farther from her not fumbling this time. “Please! They can’t make it without me!” he shouted, ignoring how his throat felt clogged, how he was struggling to breathe or see clearly anymore.
“Bilbo” Yvanna’s soft voice called and she reached again.
“Please! please, please no,” Bilbo yelled as he moved back away from her hand again. “I- we just escaped!” He squeezed his eyes closed, trying to breathe, but he couldn’t.
He needed to breathe. by the valor, let him breathe!
He was vaguely aware how he could no longer hear the sounds of the warm garden, “They need me,” he felt his voice say. “We’re almost there! I can’t die now!!”
Then warmth swelled, enveloping him like a blanket fresh from the window it was basking in, and then, he felt everything shatter like glass.
Bilbo opens his eyes, his vision swimming. It was hard to make anything out except that he was lying on something wet, something very hard and uncomfortable.
Shapes moved around him in the late sun, he could feel its warmth and it felt so much better than the light that he was in before.
Then someone took his face and held it tight, finally a shape came into focus, everything around him was still a little fuzzy. “Bilbo, lad breath.” Óin, it was Óin. He sounded worried…
Not at Bilbo saw his face long, immediately the hobbit gets his head turned to the side and someone's fingers in his mouth- he chokes and feels himself vomit.
“That's it's, cough it all up lad,” Óin said, “Kíli tell your uncle-”
“-Uncle!” A familiar voice called over Bilbo, Kíli, definitely Kíli, oh his throat burns “Óin's got him breathing!”
“That…works too,” Bilbo turned his head to look up at everyone making out a few concerned faces.
Bofur knelt near him. “Are you alright Bilbo?”
Bilbo could only manage a nod, Bilbo raised his brow when Bofur stood, but when he looked up completely he saw why. Thorin stood there looking down at him, his face set in that stern look that Bilbo used to think was a glare.
Thorin knelt next to him. “Can you walk?”
“Uh, I think,” Bilbo rasped.
“Then up with you Master Baggins- we can't leave our burglar behind.” Thorin said as he took Bilbo's arm gently “I was worried you had joined your forefathers”
Bilbo offered a tired smile. But it didn't quite reach his eyes. Because he knew the truth.
Thorin started to help him walk towards a human man with longer black hair and a bow slung over his back. “Come this way, Master Balin has secured us transport to Lake Town” Thorin said, Bilbo just nodded once more. Then Thorin continued much quieter, “And next time you have a plain involving water and barrels, think of yourself in the plain as well.”
Bilbo stared at the Dwarf as he was somewhat unceremoniously plopped on a crate on a small river boat. Thorin nodded and patted his shoulder as he left him to sit.
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Note: hope you enjoyed this story tell me what you think I'm the commitment below.
Hey I know none of you may care but I thought an update or explanation on what’s going on with my fanfics would be appreciated or something.
I am working on the next chapter of Outlaw and Lawmen and any other works I’m writing, BUT it's around my real life schedule, and work has been busy recently. (I also have a few other personal projects unrelated I'm working on.)
So thank you to the people who've been waiting and thank you for all the support my fanfics.
I hope everyone is having a good day/evening/night and I hope to update real soon.
After-School Adventures of a Young Dwarf a Pebble and a Faunt
Fili was Stressed. Capital S and everything. His Uncle's were trusting him to drive the car he had gotten for his coming of age home AND picking up his siblings!
Only Kili wasn't at the pick up location for the younger students. Nor was he at the secondary location they had agreed upon just this morning when he dropped him off for school. He had to argue with a previous teacher of his to allow him to leave his car in the line and go looking for his brother, which he was finally allowed after the teacher commented about "Stubborn as any Durin".
"Kili! Come on, it's time to go!" Fili called as he caught sight of his younger brother talking to a copper haired elf just outside the gym that was reserved for the after-school archery program, their bow cases resting next to their respective owners. His brother turned towards him excitedly.
"Fee! Meet my new friend Tauriel! She almost outdid me for the pop coupon!" He said as he dragged the female elf towards Fili by the hand, missing the blush his actions caused on her face.
"Nice to meet you Tauriel, Kili get your bow and lets go! I left the car running in the pick up line to find you and I can't let it get stolen after Uncle Thorin went through the trouble to fix Adad's old car up for me." Fili said shortly as he gave a nodding bow to the elf and separated their hands. Kili pouted but did as asked. Turning to Tauriel he gave a playful smirk as he said goodbye.
Fili chivied his younger brother all the way to the thankfully still there car. Giving a stressed smile to the impatient teacher on pick-up line duty he waited until his brother was buckled up to carefully pull away from the curb. He waited until they were only three blocks away from home to begin breateing Kili for not being where he was told to be at the time he was supposed to be as he didn't feel comfortable enough anywhere else in the drive to do so.
Turning the car off in the driveway of their home, he didn't think anything of the fact that both of their uncles where waiting on the porch for them instead contuining to lecture his surprisningly compliant brother as they both got out of the car and began to make their way up the path.
"Welcome home boys-" Thorin's deep voice started only to be cut off by the irate tenor of his hobbit husband.
"Fili. Where's Frodo?" Fili stopped dead in the middle of the path, looking up at Bilbo where he leaned forward on the rocking chair he favored for his afternoon teas. Bilbo looked like he was contemplating murder.
"Frodo? Isn't Balin-" Fili began even as Kili piped up from just behind him, panic in his voice.
"Fee, we dropped Frodo off this morning!"
"Uh, we'll go get him??" Fili said uncertainly in the face of the look his Hobbit uncle was leveling him with. Blowing out a large sigh, Bilbo looked at his Dwarf who was doing his level best to appear stern with his oldest nephew/son, but Bilbo could see the amusement in his eyes with the plight said nephew had found himself in. Narrowing his eyes he turned back to the frightened golden haired young dwarf.
"Since you are finding amusement in this, Dear, you get to go with Fili to explain to the school why Frodo wasn't picked up at the proper time! Kili will get a head start on his homework while you two are retrieving Frodo." He declared as he stood from his chair and gestured for Kili to enter the house. Thorin sputtered as Kili scampered up the porch steps, his bow case nearly nocking one of the planters over in his haste to get inside. Turning to head inside he stopped in front of his still seated husband. "Pick up dessert on your way back with Frodo and I'll think about allowing Fili to try again next week." He said before heading inside and locking the door behind himself. Seeing Kili struggling to get his case to stay in the hall closet he went to help him.
Fili deflated as Bilbo headed into the house after Kili, his shoulders hunching up as Thorin approached him. Feeling the hand on his shoulder he looked up and frowned at the smirk on his uncles face.
"Come on, lets go get your cousin. Did I ever tell you the story of the first time Bilbo was supposed to pick you boys up for me?" Thorin said as he moved towards the cars passenger side allowing Fili to slide behind the wheel once more. Fili shook his head as he backed carefully out of the driveway.
~That's the end for now at least!
@nostalgicnarrator, @shipper47 Do either of ya wanna try a "What's Frodo up to during this?" addition? Or maybe the story Thorin alludes to? Absolutely no pressure to add or anything just thought it might be a fun little exercise!
{Goals: Bagginshield being so done with their young ones, Kili getting to know Tauriel, Fili struggling with being an young adult, Frodo being adorable/mischievous, Happy ending}
(In the event of an emergency, the exits can be found at the front of the theater)
Bilbo furrowed his brow as he turned down an unfamiliar street. He was meant to be picking up Thorin’s nephews, Fíli and Kíli. He had met the boys a few times and honestly, they were the sweetest kids when they wanted to be. Well maybe for Bilbo anyway.
Thorin had asked him to pick them up because he would be able to. Why did he decide that Bilbo would be a good choice? Bilbo still wasn’t entirely sure. He didn’t own a car, he told Thorin as much, but the dwarf had insisted the boys wouldn’t mind the walk.
He was sure they would and they would, but that wasn’t Bilbo's issue anymore. No, the issue now was Thorin’s directions. Directions that were nearly laughably nonsensical.
Bilbo stopped and stared at the slightly yellow crosswalk light ahead. He crossed his arms, glaring at it like he glares at his cousin Labila. “What does ‘turn at the yellow light’ even mean?” he grumbled.
Did Thorin mean the stoplights? The crosswalk signal? Was there some kind of magic Dwarf nonsense that was only visible only to dwarves?
Bilbo sighed. He probably should have known better at this point. The last time he’d followed Thorin’s directions, he’d ended up in a dark, never ending alleyway that practically screamed, “You’re going to be mugged!”
He threw his head back with a groan. “Right. Excellent. Brilliant,” he growled to himself, pacing up and down the sidewalk. “That stupid dwarf couldn’t give proper directions if his life depended on it!”
Bilbo glanced down at his phone he had yet to put away, this was his last lifeline out of this ridiculous mess of his. He pressed the power button but nothing happened. So he pushed it again. And again. And again-
The phone was dead. Completely and utterly dead.
Bilbo blinked at it for a moment before letting out an empty laugh. “You’re a fool of a Took, Bilbo Baggins,” he muttered bitterly. “A foolish idiot!” He yelled as he resisted the urge to chuck his phone as hard and as far as he physically could.
This was fine. Totally fine. Why wouldn’t it be? His phone was dead, he was lost in a town he barely knew, and now he was going to be late picking up two very adorable pebbles who were probably sitting there, thinking their Uncle Bilbo had abandoned them!
Which in his honest opinion, he had. He could see it: their big blue eyes brimming with big tears, noses pressed against a window as they waited for him to come strolling up and he never will.
“I’ll skin that dwarf,” Bilbo growled under his breath, it was thorin’s fault to begin with, if he would have just picked anyone else or actually given him directions he would be lost! Bilbo huffed as he stuffed the useless metal brick into his back pocket. “I’ll make a new bag for my pipeweed outta that dwarf!”
Turning on his heel, he started retracing his steps – or at least what he thought were his steps. The streets honestly looked the same to him. unfamiliar building after unfamiliar building, useless signs, it got to the point Bilbo decided he would stop at the next open shop and just ask for directions there.
Then he saw a convenience store, it was opened, “I’m sure there’s someone in there with any kind of sensible direction” Bilbo told himself, and if not, there would at least be chargers.
Once inside, he was greeted by a cheery-looking dwarf with a goofy hat behind the counter. Bilbo managed a quick smile as he made his way to the counter.
“Uh, excuse me,” Bilbo said, trying to sound as polite as he could. “I’m looking for… well, for anything familiar, honestly.”
“Oh?” The cheery dwarf with the goofy hat asked and bulbi nodded quickly.
“Yes you see I’m meant to be picking up my boyfriend’s nephews from school and I got so turned around- I’m kinda new-”
The cheery dwarf chuckled interrupting Bilbo, “yeah it can be confusing sometimes can’t it? Now, Let me think. Let’s see, well if you’re coming this way you’d probably need – well, wait, no, you said you got turned around so. What address are you coming from- oh but you said you just moved so you probably wouldn’t know! Oh! You know, it’s funny, because just the other day I was talking to my cousin about-”
Bilbo blinked as Bofur began rambling about anything that seemed to come to the dwarf’s mind. Conversations that the hobbit had not been apart of, pies, cousins, a recap of a very long debate about whether jam or honey was superior.
Now, Bilbo enjoyed a good chat. He loved a good chat, in fact. But right now, he needed to find his way, preferably before Thorin’s nephews’ teacher started calling social services because he abandoned the children by accident. Thorin would definitely break up with him.
Bilbo shook himself firmly from that train of thought and then very quickly decided that this cheery dwarf was not helpful, Bilbo nodded stiffly before he muttered a quick “thank you,” to the still rambling dwarf and slipped out of the store. The dwarf was still very much talking as the door swung shut behind the hobbit.
“Right. That was… unhelpful,” Bilbo said to nobody as he sighed. He chanced a glance up at the fading light. He was definitely late now. Dís was going to kill him for abandoning her boys.
Bilbo decided to head a little farther down the road, he spotted a lone occupied bench on an empty street corner. A random older looking dwarf sat there, strangely the face of this dwarf felt vaguely familiar.
Bulbi couldn’t place why, the dwarf looked up at him as he approached. Bilbo swallowed his nerves. He couldn’t just wander forever.
“Excuse me,” Bilbo said, clearing his throat. The old dwarf raised a Buddy brow at him before bulbi continued. “I’m sorry to bother you, but I’m looking for… well, let’s just say the town square at this point. Could you point me in the right direction?”
The old dwarf squinted at him. “The sound chair? I don’t know nothin’ about no sound chair lad.”
“No, no,” Bilbo said quickly and shook his head, the hobbit raised his voice a bit. “The town square!”
The old dwarf made an ‘oh’ face and nodded. “Aye, I know where that is. Come with me, lad.”
Relief finally washed over the hobbit, he was saved, he was going to get somewhere familiar. Bilbo followed as the old dwarf led him, Bilbo began getting worried when the dwarf began leading him down unfamiliar winding streets and twisting alleys.
Maybe the dwarf had actually heard him right like Bilbo had thought, But when he opened his mouth to ask, the dwarf had stopped at them at a fish market near nothing that seemed remotely familiar.
Bilbo blinked a few times and looked around. “This… this isn’t the town square.”
“Gotta catch a bus, you be careful now lad” the old dwarf said, bulbi panicked and turned to tell the dwarf to wait but it was too late, the old dwarf had already disappeared into the crowd.
Bilbo felt his frustration began to boil over like a kettle that had been left to boil too long. He took a deep breath and then picked a random direction before walking. “This couldn’t get any worse” he grumbled to himself.
And as if to spite him the sky grumbled, It had started drizzling – drizzling! Great, good, excellent!
He tucked himself into his coat he borrowed from Throin, it was a little big but it seemed to work well enough against the raid as it fell. Then a very scruffy looking gray cat decided to follow Bilbo out of nowhere. It weaved between his legs, meowing loudly at him, nearly tripping him.
“Go away,” Bilbo snapped, he had quite enough of everything already, he would not like to add ‘falling on my face’ to his list of everything that had gone wrong today.
The hobbit shooed at the cat with his foot, the cat only meowed loudly in response and continued to weave in between his legs or stand in front of him.
As the drizzle began to turn into a horrible downpour, the cat decided to start yowling incessantly. Bilbo was hardly fast enough to catch himself when the cat finally seemed to succeed in its attempt to trip him.
Bilbo sat there on the wet pavement for a long time. Soaking wet now and defeated, Bilbo finally scooped the very upset and soaked cat. He promptly stuffed the angry feline into his coat as he stood up.
The cat, now seemingly smug and content, purred loudly against his chest.
Bilbo walked for a while longer before he finally gave up entirely and plopped himself down onto a bench at the side of the road, the rain was coming down in buckets now. Bilbo pulled his jacket closer to himself as he sat there, shivering and soaked, staring blankly at the empty street.
He didn’t know how long it had been when a car pulled up very quickly, its headlights breefly blinding Bilbo. The hobbit jumped and curled up around the still purring cat, the thing still seemed content in the oversized jacket. Bilbo tightened the hold on the cat as the door of the car flew open.
“Bilbo!” And all the panic and tension washed out of him, It was Thorin. He was saved!
Bilbo stood and kept as best hold on the cat as he could- he didn’t wanna drop it. He could finally see his lover’s face as he hurried to Bilbo. Thorin looked very pale and drawn up with worry. The dwarf grabbed Bilbo by the shoulders and looked him over. “Are you all right? I’ve been looking everywhere for you! What didn’t you answer you phone?!”
Bilbo blinked a few times, the hobbit was drenched, freezing and miserable. “No,” Bilbo said flatly. “I am not alright!!” He stomped his foot and threw his hand up as he began to yell. “Your stupid directions were useless!! Useless Thorin! I got lost – horribly lost, and no one could help me properly!! Is this just a thing with you dwarfs!? To be as unhelpful as possible!?”
“Bilbo-” Throin tried but bulbi had quite enough at this point.
The hobbit pulled out his useless metal brick and threw it at the dwarf who fumbled to catch it. “My phone is dead! it’s raining, and –” He yelled before he gestured to his borrowed coat, where the cat was now poking its fluffy little head out at all the commotion, “I have somehow acquired a cat!”
Thorin let out a noise, his hands fumbled with the hobbit’s phone before holding the power button down for a long moment. Bilbo wondered what the dwarf was doing.
The hobbit furrowed his brow when Thorin laughed loudly and showed Bilbo his now powered on phone. “Let’s get you home,” said Thorin as he handed the phone back.
Bilbo stared at it for a long time before he felt his face get nearly boiling hot and his eyes well with tears. Bilbo stormed to the car’s passenger door and threw it open before getting in and slammed the door shut hard.
He was very much done, he wanted to go home, take a hot shower and sleep till he believed all this nonsense was a horrible nightmare. Thorin just smiled at him once he got behind the wheel, Bilbo decided to ignore him.
(Yell at me if something is spelled wrong or makes negative sense, I am haft awake. I did your thingy @midnightstar789 💙💙💙)
It is my birthday as it happens! So I bring a present for you! A little teaser for something I’m working on. It’s technically the prologue for the story, you’ll see what I mean.
───── 𐬺𐮚 ☀︎︎ 𐮚𐬺 ─────
Now, I’m not much of a storyteller, but if you insist… I’ll tell you a tale. This is the story of a roguish thief and a handsome prince, it all starts with the moon…
Once upon a time, a single drop of moonlight fell from the heavens. Blessed by the Valar- or, at least, that’s what they say. And perhaps, they were right, for from this small drop of moon, grew a mountain.
Of course I wasn’t there at the very beginning, but I’ve heard the story told often enough to know it by heart. Though, I wonder if I would have believed it true if I had not been there for the end- Dear me! I am getting ahead of myself.
Where was I…? Oh yes, centuries passed, and in that mountain, there grew a kingdom- the kingdom of Erebor. It was a grand place, a true kingdom of Dwarves, filled with riches and wealth to share. No one fell grievously ill, no one went hungry.
Then, one day the old king, Thrór, stepped down to allow his son, Thráin, to take the throne. Thráin, he was a beloved Prince, and soon after a beloved King. His wedding was stuff of legend.
The wedding went on for days, a party, larger than any that had came before it. Visitors from all kingdoms near and far came. Dwarves do love a good party, and when the Queen was said to have been with child, joy rang clear! An heir was to be born!
But, joy does not last forever… Despair fell upon the people of Erebor. The Queen had fallen ill. Very, ill. The healers tried all they could, but nothing was working, she was running out of time. It was then that the dwarves began to search for a miracle…
And a miracle is what they found. Deep beneath the mountain, where the drop of moonlight fell. They discovered a stone of pure light. It shone like the moon itself, glimmering with life, with magic.
They called it the Arkenstone, though I’ve heard it referred to by a few other names as well. That’s dwarves for you.
Now, you see, among the healers, there was one who was wicked. Szmûr he called himself. He took the form of a dwarf, though he was not one.
You see, Szmûr was not his true name, for he was a creature of fell magics. A beast with the heart of a drake, lured by precious things, all things gleaming. He could change forms from one to the next, shedding it like a wicked lizard.
That is why he was there, Szmûr was out for power. So when he heard tales of moonlight that grew a mountain, Szmûr wished to find it, steal away the magic nestled there.
When they found the Arkenstone, Szmûr knew that he had to steal it away. The stone had the ability to heal the sick and injured…it had the ability to grant life where death once settled her harsh claws.
But, someone else had their eye on that stone, for he knew all it could do and more and he wished to use it for good. This someone was another healer, Óin– yes, the very same Óin you’ve likely heard tales of, though this was long before he was head of the royal healers, likely before he was well known for much of anything at all.
You see, Óin had begun to grow suspicious of Szmûr, there was something of the way he would linger around the stone, glancing longingly- as if he was to take it.
So, Óin convinced the Healers to grind the stone into a fine powder, with that powder he brewed a tea and gave it to the Queen. Now, how he knew what to do with it is still one of the great mysteries in life.
Anyway, The Queen was healed, and soon a prince was born, a baby boy with raven hair that seemed to shine with a silver light. To celebrate his birth the king and queen released lanterns into the sky, and for that one moment, everything was perfect.
But, if it had stayed that way, we would not have this story, would we?
You see, Szmûr was not done…he broke into the palace, stole the child in the dead of night, and just like that he was gone…
The kingdom searched and searched, but they found no signs of the lost prince. For you see, hidden deep within the distant mountains, in an old dwarvish stronghold, Szmûr raised the child as his own, locked away and all alone…
The kingdom was devastated by this loss and though the king and queen had other children, one could not replace the loss of the other.
And so, year after year, they released lanterns, hoping against hope that their lost son would return.
───── 𐬺𐮚 ☀︎︎ 𐮚𐬺 ─────
Note:
I was hoping to get prologue and chapter 1 out for this story but I think this will do. The next chapter of outlaws and lawmen will be coming, I promise. This was kinda a brain break for me.
Thanks to @midnightstar789 for being my test audience and basically my editor.
Please. don’t hesitate to read this. It’s an amazing story so far. It’s a story about what if Bilbo did all kinds of adventures with Gandalf and was adopted by him. Its amazing. I love it.
Bilbo keeps on stirring up trouble and Thorin needs to slow down before he gets hurt.
───── ☾ ⍟ ☽ ─────
1 / 2 / 2.5 / 3 / 4
Note:
I always forget the format I do for these things… anyway, I love this story, and this third chapter as really taken its time to be made. I had help from @midnightstar789 you better go over there and love them or else. I probably wouldn’t have posted this chapter at how fast I was doing it alone.
───── ꧁✪꧂ ─────
The train rattled beneath him, each clank of the wheels, each creak of the train, it all felt like nails on a chalkboard to Bilbo’s ears, horrible and painful and he wanted it to stop. He leaned more against the edge of the train car's roof.
His eyes were rapidly scanning the fading horizon, searching for something in the dying light of day.
Truthfully Bilbo wasn’t sure if he was expecting Thorin to leap out at him from some unknown shadow or if he was hoping to see his right-hand man.
Bilbo’s chest felt tight as his adrenaline still ran through him like an echo of a gunshot. He shook his head as the last few moments of the evening replayed in his mind: Dwalin and his right-hand man tumbling from the back of the train car and Thorin slipping off the side of the car.
Bilbo squeezed his eyes shut trying desperately to stop from remembering that sickening thud Thorin’s body had made, how he waited for what felt like too long to see if Thorin would move, why he cared so much.
Bilbo shook his head harshly, trying to make the thought go away. For anything else to take its place.
He forced himself to think through the steps of his plan and how it’s worked out so far. Well, mostly. Okay, maybe not at all.
Honestly! How was he supposed to know that it’d all go pear-shaped so quickly? Oh, he liked pears, maybe he could steal some of Lobelia’s hand pies.
Then he nearly slapped himself, food really shouldn’t be his main concern. The plan, right? Yes, it wasn’t perfect, he was convinced no amount of planning would ever make a plan go off without a hitch, especially his. But how the hell was he supposed to know that, the sheriff would– oh that sheriff!
Bilbo’s lips tightened, that stubborn, infuriating, pig-headed fool of a Sheriff. That–that stupid frustrating idiot lawman! Blibo hated him, hated him for all that he was worth!
But damn if he didn’t admire that man’s persistence. Thorin was like a burr stuck to his heel, uncomfortable and not wanted.
But while there was a part of Bilbo that couldn’t help but respect that drive, then another part of him, the honestly smarter part was terrified of it.
He snapped his eyes open at his sudden thoughts. Bilbo cursed under his breath. Thorin, shit, there’s no way in hell he wasn’t far behind. He couldn’t get comfortable, he had to move, and fast.
A knot twisted in Bilbo’s stomach, as he pulled himself away from the edge and made his way toward the front of the train.
Bilbo knew better. He may not have known the sheriff long but he’s heard the stories. Thorin was known for slipping away from worse than falling off a train, and if Bilbo didn’t find his right-hand man soon, he'd be flying one wing down.
If Thorin caught up with him, if Bilbo couldn’t find his right-hand man, well… Bilbo knew sheriffs, he has interacted with his fair share of them.
If he got caught, if Nori paid for Bilbo’s sins…
But the plan hadn’t fallen apart completely, yet, Bilbo knew if it did, there would be no escaping it. And he’d be damned if it wasn’t him hanging from a noose.
⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☁︎ ☁︎︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆
Thorin grumbled, adjusting his horse’s saddle with a rough tug. The black Appaloosa stood still, her white-spotted back gleaming in the heat. Thorin had named this horse Storm.
Once, when his nephews were younger, they asked “why?” He told them; “because she created a storm unlike any other he’d seen.” That she had chosen him to be her rider. Despite what some think, he wasn’t entirely spinning stories when he said that.
Thorin can remember the day he found her as vividly as he remembered the births of his nephews. He had been looking for a horse, but none caught his eye. He searched, and searched, but no luck seemed to find him. He had even gone to a few other towns and their stables in hope of finding his perfect horse. Then, like a crack of thunder, there Storm was.
She had broken loose from her stable hand, the boy was hardly strong enough to hold her ropes. She was having a fit, bucking and kicking, she was like a twister.
Thorin watched in a strange awe as the young stable hand got kicked into a trough and another was nearly run over as she made a break for the stable door.
Thorin was amazed at how fast she was, how quickly she had broken free. He wasted no time going after her. She wasn’t hard to track, any person he asked would point where they saw her running off to, and if that wasn’t enough clue, the destruction in her wake was.
She had torn a path through that town. If Thorin was a poet he’d likely have said something clever about her, but he wasn’t, nor did he think himself clever enough to do so even now.
He found her in some farmer’s barn. The man had shakily grabbed him and told him there was a beast loose, a beast, his storm to chase. He never understood how or why she cornered herself like that. She could have run to the fields, the forest even, but instead, she had found a barn.
Before he knew it he was inside, he watched as she rear back, snorting and fussing. Nowadays, on the rare occasions when she gets like that, he lets her have her tantrum.
She kicked her front legs at him like she was trying to shoo him. He had to take a few steps back to avoid being caught by her hooves.
He did his best to calm her, to talk to her; slow and steady. Just like how he was taught.
He offered a hand out so she could smell him, once she did she seemed to calm completely. It was strange, she had nuzzled into his hand and relaxed, like some large weight was off her shoulders.
Thorin was brought out of his thoughts when Storm snorted at him and flicked her ears in frustration. Thorin knew it was her telling him she didn’t appreciate all the tugging and pulling.
He couldn’t help but chuckle at her, he patted her back softly. “Sorry girl, didn’t hurt you, did I?” He rumbled softly. Storm snorted again, shaking herself off.
At least she’s not as angry as she was after the train incident, she was snorting and huffing and wouldn’t let him do much but touch her.
That damn outlaw, that damn…, damn, thief! A thief is what he is, a damn thief! Ered wasn’t in the best condition, especially not financially! There’s one bank in this forsaken town and all the reserves are gone because of a damn outlaw he couldn’t handle! Thorin should have gone after Bilbo by now, he should have had that outlaw strung up and hung, but his sister...
Christ… his sister, Dís, just wouldn’t let him take off. No matter what he said, no matter how much he wanted, she was worried about his injuries.
And that’s exactly why the boys are distracting her at the moment.
He hoped it worked this time, she’d had taken his ear the last three times she caught him trying to sneak out. Thorin was very sure it got more and more painful each time, and honestly, he swore his ear was still throbbing.
So, Thorin had been stuck in his sister’s house for a week. The only joy he had was the knowledge that Dwalin was worse off than him. But not in the sense of physical he means, Dwalin’s brother had him basically bedridden.
At least Dís was nice enough to let him wander around. For the most part anyway
Kíli had kept him more or less updated on what was happening around town. While Fíli filled in as Sheriff for the time being, that was more for show than anything. It wouldn’t look all too good if a town went sheriffless.
Thorin winced, he was ripped from his thoughts again by a sharp pain. He paused to find his breath. His ribs throbbed and he grit his teeth, squeezing his eyes shut he leaned against Storm.
Every breath Thorin took sent fresh waves of pain shooting through his body. He suddenly wondered if his knees would buckle. Storm shifted a bit at his sudden weight, but she didn’t move away from him. He didn’t know how long he stood there, nor did he care.
That throb slowly turned into an ache and Thorin could breathe again. He pushed himself off of Storm, though he didn’t let go as he stood. Storm did her best to stay still, to look back at him.
She gave a soft snort, one Thorin had come to learn means “slow down.” He looked up at her and gave her a soft smile. Thorin hoped his ribs were well enough for a ride, or this was gonna be hell.
Thorin froze for a moment when he heard the familiar sound of heavy boots and hooves crunching on the dirt of the road. Thorin sighed as he turned around.
It was Dwalin and Honey. Honey was Dwalin’s light brown Thoroughbred. Strangest horse Thorin has ever met.
Thorin remembered when that old farmer swore up and down that, that horse was one of the bravest horses he had ever seen, but brave horses aren’t afraid of butterflies, at least in Thorin’s opinion.
Dwalin was very clearly looking for him, Honey was happily plodding along.
Dwalin hadn’t spotted him and Storm yet, maybe he could just sneak away, but that thought died as quickly as it came when Honey nudged Dwalin’s shoulder and Dwalin looked over.
The deputy rolled his eyes as he walked over to Thorin, almost hurriedly. “Going somewhere?” Dwalin’s voice was gruff. It wasn’t meant as a question; Thorin knew that much but he answered anyway.
Thorin quickly decided on, “After Bilbo.” As his response. That didn’t seem to help his case as Dwalin gave him a hard look.
Dwalin huffed and gently patted Honey’s neck. “You’re not going after that bastard alone. We do this together like we always do.”
Thorin could feel his face settle into a glare, but Dwalin didn’t even flinch at the look. Storm shifted uneasily.
“No,” Thorin grumbled. “You need to stay here. I’ve already put you through enough–”
Dwalin cut him off with a sharp grunt. “Put me through enough?” His brow furrowed, and he stepped closer puffing out his chest. “You expect me to sit here, twiddlin’ my thumbs, while you go get yourself killed? Ain’t happenin’ Thorin!”
Dwalin poked Thorin’s chest hard as he spoke, Thorin forced the involuntary noise of pain down. Dwalin seems unaware of the pain he has caused as he continues to glare at him daring him to disagree. Thorin squared his shoulders before he spoke, “Dwalin, you’ve done more than enough for me. This isn’t your fight.”
Dwalin’s eyes narrowed. “Ain’t my fight?-“ and he gave Thorin a look, Thorin knew what the look meant. What he said was the dumbest thing Dwalin had heard in a long time. “Ya kiddin’? Thorin this is my fight as much as yours-”
Thorin grits his teeth as he interrupts, “No Dwalin you don’t understand!” He pleaded with the deputy.
Dwalin didn’t let him continue that thought though. The deputy growled as he spoke, “Thorin Oakenshield, you listen to me, you pig-headed bastard! I can’t sit back and watch you try and kill yourself. I’ve seen ya hurt too much already.”
Thorin opened his mouth to answer only to get a glare in response. Thorin knew Dwalin was right. But the idea of dragging him into another mess twisted something deep in his chest. For once, Thorin wanted to shoulder this alone.
Thorin waited too long to say anything, Dwalin’s shoulders dropped, and he took Thorin’s arms and squeezed them lightly, “This isn’t about favors Thorin! You're my brother– not by blood, but by badge! this isn’t me repaying some sort of favor!”
Dwalin paused to let Thorin speak but when he said nothing Dwalin continued. “Think of Dís, she’s lost one brother. I don't know if she could stomach losin’ another, Thorin. We made a promise, remember? To bear our burdens together, and there’s no way I’m lettin’ you ride out alone.”
Thorin couldn't stop himself from just staring at his deputy. He doesn’t know how long he stood there but when Dwalin started to look worried, Thorin knew this argument would never end till he gave in.
“Thorin..?” Dwalin rumbled and Thorin was shaken from his thoughts by the sound of the worry in Dwalin’s voice.
He groaned and sagged. “God damn it, fine, fine! Alright-” Thorin glared at Dwalin. He shrugged the deputy’s hands off and poked him in the chest, Thorin continued, “But we do this on my terms!”
Dwalin grinned widely and patted him on the back, Thorin began to mildly wonder if Dwalin is trying to kill him as pain shot through his chest again. “As long as it means we’re doing it together.”
Thorin muttered every curse he knew under his breath, then threw himself into Storm’s saddle. She shifted beneath him but settled once she felt his weight. Dwalin followed suit, mounting Honey with ease.
Thorin glanced over at him, Dwalin was looking better than what Kíli had been saying. Maybe the boy was just trying to make his uncle feel better. Maybe he was just being dramatic, Thorin decided quickly he didn’t care.
Thorin then briefly wondered if he looked as disheveled as he felt. After a moment a faint smile crept onto Thorin’s face as he nudged Storm into a trot. “You’re as stubborn as an old mule, you know that?”
Dwalin chuckled. “Takes one to know one.”
Thorin rolled his eyes but said nothing.
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Thorin grimaced when Storm shifted more as she trotted along. The sudden movement had Thorin pushing down a whine he felt clawing its way up his throat.
“Yer sure we ain’t headed in the wrong direction, Thorin?” Dwalin grunted, Thorin turned to watch the deputy roll his shoulder anxiously.
Thorin found himself shrugging. “I can only imagine. We probably ain’t all that far.”
“Ya can only- ya don’t fuckin’ know?!” Dwalin growled and Thorin rolled his eyes.
“We don’t have many options, Dwalin. It's to follow the damn tracks and hope we find that damn town and can ask around, or wander our happy asses back home.” Thorin said as he gestured to the open plains in front of them, the sun dipping lower in the afternoon sky.
“Or do you wanna go back to those abandoned train cars? Fair warning we’re nearly out of supplies.” Thorin snapped at Dwalin.
He knew they were both just hot and hungry, and he doubted Dwalin would turn around now. They had crossed paths with the forgotten cars a while ago, all they managed to find in those cars were a few broken whiskey bottles, a half-empty bag of old Toby tobacco and a seemingly forgotten pipe.
Outside was a bit more helpful, a few tracks leading away from the cars, heading east down the track. it was hardly enough to point them toward Briar Town. But it’s all they got, it was the closest town, and they needed food and rest.
Thorin knew a little about Briar. Bofur and Bifur came from there, they told him a good bit in passing, particularly to warn him away from visiting it.
As far as he remembered the town was just an old town that had lost a lot of its relevance when the mines dried up sixty-ish years ago. It was still there, more used for transport than anything else.
Why they thought it a bad idea for him to go there is beyond him. But they needed supplies and they needed answers, hopefully they can get both there.
“Somethin’ just doesn’t sit right with me,” Dwalin muttered as he reached down and patted Honey’s neck when the horse shifted uneasily.
Thorin rolled his eyes, “nothing ever does.” Thorin grumbled. Dwalin smacked him upside the head and Thorin whipped around to glare at him, while rubbing his head and fixing his hat.
He supposed he had to admit that Dwalin was right, something about the way Briar loomed not far now set him on edge.
It wasn’t too long before they neared the town, he could feel the hair on the back of his neck raise as the uneasy quiet of people settled between him and his deputy.
The streets of Briar seemed to shrink around them. Eyes peered out from behind tattered curtains, quick whispers flitted through doorways before slamming shut, weary of the new faces in town.
Thorin tipped his hat to a little boy who waved kindly to them, only to watch the mother drag the boy inside, shooting the lawmen a look that sent a chill down Thorin’s spine. This wasn’t wariness, it was fear.
They slowed when they neared a more rundown general store. Thorin looked to Dwalin as the man swung himself down off Honey, he tried the door, it was locked.
That’s that plan out the window. Dwalin huffed, Storm snorted and tossed her head agitatedly, her ears flicking. Thorin reached down to pat her neck, “easy girl, you’re okay,”
Thorin looked around the now desolate streets as Dwalin saddled back up. “That’s fucking great. What the hell are we supposed to do?”
Something catches Thorin’s eye before he could answer. He looked away from Dwalin, and stared at a particular dark alleyway. He swore he saw eyes stare back.
“Thorin.”
He could swear those eyes seemed familiar.
“Thorin!”
But he couldn’t place why he thought that or whose they would be.
“THORIN!” Dwalin’s voice cut through his thoughts, he had pulled Honey in front of him forcing Thorin to look at his deputy
“What!?” Thorin yelled as he tried to look back at the alleyway. But the eyes were gone.
Dwalin grumbled and nudged Honey into a trot, Storm followed after without a nudge or command. “What are we gonna do?”
Thorin looked around again, this time for an answer, a building caught his eye and he tipped his head to it and both men pulled their horses to a stop.
The old swinging doors did little to hide the ruckus. Thorin nudged Storm forward, stopping her again at an old hitching post. Dwalin trotted up beside him.
Thorin looked to Dwalin before they both dismounted. Dwalin was quick to throw himself off Honey and tie him to the hitching post.
Throin slid himself down from Storm carefully. His ribs throbbed a bit, and Thorin felt ill. When his boots hit the dirt beneath him he couldn’t stop the grunt of pain as it escaped.
Thorin quickly turned to Dwalin to see if he noticed or was watching. What He saw was Honey nudging Dwalin’s shoulder with a soft whinny, eyes wide and expectant, as if asking for treats or a scratch.
Dwalin sighed, a hint of affection laced his voice as he muttered “Not now, ya big baby,” the deputy muttered, ruffling Honey’s mane before turning his attention to the saloon. Thorin couldn’t help but chuckle at the two of them.
Thorin watched Dwalin as he looked at the building, Thorin cast it his own glance; peeling paint and rotting wood gave the building an aura all it’s own.“Real nice lookin’ place,” Dwalin rumbled.
“It looks like a place folks go when they don’t want to be found. If anyone knows anything about Bilbo, they’ll be here.” Thorin said he took a few measured breaths trying to will the pain still in his chest away.
Dwalin shoved the doors open, basically storming inside. Thorin sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose as he followed after his deputy, his eyes scanning the room quickly for anything or anyone out of the ordinary.
The saloon was a dimly lit place, the thick scent of stale beer, he’s going to pretend it’s only beer anyway, cheap booze and sour sweat hung in the air.
The patrons looked like they belonged to any other old backwater town; hired hands, gamblers, and ranchers. Ratty, unkempt just like everything else.
But, then, Thorin’s gaze found a group of three men, almost better kept. Not well kept, but better off then the rest. One was broad, maybe muscular, another lanky and hunched like he was trying to hide himself, his hair a blonde that felt vaguely familiar, the third looked younger, smaller with dark almost black curls, he seemed far too jittery.
They were nearly in the center of the room, it seemed like others had been sitting around them before Thorin and Dwalin walked in. He kept the small group in the corner of his eye. Despite trying to hunch in on himself, the blond’s face was more or less visible, it almost seemed familiar, but he couldn’t remember why and keep an eye on Dwalin at the same time.
Dwalin did not do much looking, in fact, he made a beeline for the bar, glaring at the bartender. The man was cleaning a glass keeping his eyes down, he was a little better kept like the three other men.
“We’re lookin’ for some men, ridin’ with a feller named Baggins. You seen ‘em?” Dwalin asked roughly.
The barkeep paused what he was doing, the man casted a long sideways glance at Thorin and Dwalin, looking them up and down gaze lingering on their badges. The man’s expression hardened as he returned to polishing the glass in his hands, offering no verbal answer.
“I’m fuckin’-” Dwalin started to say before Thorin grabbed his deputy’s arm and stepped forward more.
Thorin leaned against the counter with a faint smile. “We’re not here to cause any trouble mister,” he said evenly. “Just lookin’ to talk.”
From the corner of his eye, he saw the three men shift uncomfortably. Dwalin, finally looking around the saloon’s interior, noticed them too.
To Dwalin jittery means suspicious. The deputy growled as he stormed towards the three. “You three know something.” It was more a statement than a question.
“No sir, we know nothing sir.” The broad brown haired boy answered. He was young as well, Thorin decided as he turned to follow his deputy, by his voice.
Dwalin growled and slammed his hands on the table making the smallest boy jump. “Don’t lie to me boy-”
“We’re not lying sir.”
Dwalin ignored the broad shoulder boy and turned to the smallest boy, the youngin seemed to finch under the hard glare of the deputy. “Talk. You know something”
“He doesn’t sir-” the broad shouldered boy tried- Thorin begins to wonder if he needs to step in.
“Am I fucking talking to you kid?!” Dwalin yelled and Thorin stepped forward, he needed to calm his deputy before-
The broad shouldered boy stood to meet the deputy, “leave before we make you-” anger prominent on his face. Almost like a shot, Dwalin’s fist crashed into the man’s jaw, sending him sprawling out across a table.
Chaos immediately erupted. Chairs scraped, bottles shattered. Thorin ducked a swing from the lanky blonde, his ribs screaming as he twisted.
Thorin’s breath caught in his throat as the lanky man swung again, much faster than before. The man’s fist connected with Thorin’s side.
His vision blurred and the pain in his ribs flared so intensely he nearly dropped to his knees. He gasped, fighting to stay upright, gripping the edge of a table for balance as the room spun around him.
Thorin couldn’t afford to fail- not now, not with Dwalin counting on him. Thorin grunted as he grit his teeth and forced himself upright, he jabbed the lanky blonde in the gut, hard. The man doubled over, gasping roughly.
Thorin grabbed him by the shirt collar and drove his knee into the blonde’s face. The younger kid from the group had backed up from the table, he seemed to suddenly realize that he was now outnumbered and the young boy made a break for the swinging doors.
Throin cussed as he followed the boy pushing past the people who half heartedly blocked the doors. Throin’s ribs throbbed painfully as he stumbled off the walkway to follow the fleeing man.
Storm pulled against her reins, neighing with concern as he ran past her as fast as his ribs let him after the man.
He was heaving for breaths, forced to pause in the middle of the empty street attempting to wait out the increased burning pain of his ribs. He wondered idly if- oh, okay that’s the ground.
Throin felt someone lead him down onto the ground, their very indistinct voice buzzed above him. Throin snapped his eyes open dizzily. When had he closed them…?
Dwalin knelt in front of him holding his upper body up easily, “Thorin- Thorin, what’s wrong? Just breath-”
“N-no, don’t stop, go go. He’ll get away-” Thorin managed out, he grit his teeth as pain shot back through him, he was starting to feel dizzy again. Dwalin just stared down at him, Throin looked up and grimaced as he shouted “Dwalin!”
“FINE! Don’t move from there do you hear me? Don’t move.” Dwalin demanded and Thorin nodded and Dwalin gave chase down the street, following the younger man.
Throin took a few deep breaths, he cussed under his breath before pushing himself up. He had to keep up.
He shook his head and quickly followed after the two men. Throin made it to the alleyway he saw the two turn down.
Just in time to see Dwalin slammed the kid against the wall, his fist raised as if to hit him. “You’re gonna tell me what I wanna fuckin’ know,” the deputy growled.
“Dwalin!” Thorin yelled, stopping Dwalin in his tracks. Thorin’s ribs screamed in protest as he took a step forward, but he forced himself upright. “We don’t need him half-dead.”
Dwalin whipped his head around to glared over his shoulder at Thorin, his fist still posed. “I thought I told ya ta stay there! Damn it Thorin you're gonna hurt yourself more!”
Thorin looked at Dwalin for only a moment before he took a step closer turning to the terrified young man. He softened his tone as he spoke, he was hoping to calm the boy back down.
“Hey, sorry for my friend here he gets a little uppity when he’s not havin’ a good day. We just need some information.” Thorin said, The young man looked between the two lawmen, his eyes landing of Dwalin’s still raised fist.
Thorin put a hand on Dwalin’s fist and lowered it when he noticed what tge kid was looking at. “Why don’t ya tell us what ya know, hmm?”
The boy's lip trembled as he spoke. He sounded like he was nearly crying. “I-I don’t know! It wasn’t me that let the Sackvile’s chickens out I swear!”
“Sackvile’s chickens?” Thorin’s brows furrowed, he looked at Dwalin trying to make sense.
Dwalin frowned. “The fuck is a Sacksvile?”
“Does this Sack-vile– have any interest or connections with Baggings?” Thorin asked, ignoring Dwalin’s question after realizing he wasn’t going to be much help.
The young man swallowed hard. “We-well, not really unless you count Loilbela but nobody trusts that thieving-” then the young man paused before going back to blubbering, Thorin vaguely wondered if the boy would start crying. “P-Please let me go misters! I ain’t done nothin’ please-”
Thorin sighed and looked at his deputy. Dwalin look at him for a beat before both men looked back to the boy as he blubbered again.
Thorin rased his hand a bit letting go of Dwalin’s arm. “Now son, we ain’t gonna hurt you–” Thorin tried to explain but he didn’t get far.
The sheriff was quickly interrupted bag a “O, for the love of god!” Before Dwalin knocked the kid out with a solid punch to the jaw, letting the kid slump down against the wall.
Thorin shot Dwalin a disapproving glance. “Was that really necessary?”
Dwalin snorted. “Yes, unless you like the cryin’. Now, sit down somewhere, I’ll handle him.”
Thorin gave him a glare as he plopped down on a crate at the end of the alleyway, the nearly nighttime air felt cooler now.
Thoin closed his eyes as he leaned back against the wall.
The throbbing in his chest had begun to lessen as Dwalin tapped his cheek. Thorin looked up at him, the deputy he had the young man over his shoulder tied up.
Thorin sighed at him as they started to head out of the alleyway and to their horses.
Suddenly a finely dressed man approached them, he he looked off down the road a bit before flicking his eyes to the boy on Dwalin’s shoulder.
Thorin furrowed his brow he liked at his deputy before back at the man, Dwalin had his brow raised.
He looked far better dressed than anyone else they’d seen. He looked at the two of them and smiled.
“Sheriff and deputy I presume?” the man greeted after clearing his throat, tilting his head to them.
Throin glanced at Dwalin again, “uh…, i suppose word travels fast around here huh?”
“Yes well,” the man said before clearing his throat again. “-Bilbo’s right-hand man,” he started with no warning, the man pointed down the road. “He isn’t far. I saw him ridin’ east.”
Dwalin furrowed his brow and squinted at the man, he opened his mouth to say something but Thorin interrupted.
“Thank you sir.” Thorin said and the man quickly nodded and scurried away.
Dwalin looked at Thorin when he began walking to the horses again, “the hell just happened.”
“We got our lead…” Thorin said as he threw his leg up over Storms saddle.“Dwalin you should head back to Ered with that boy I’ll go ahead-“
Dwalin glared at him as he threw the boy on the back of honey. “Absolutely not, not with you like that.”
Thorin gave his deputy a look, he nodded to the boy. “We can’t drag that boy-“
“Too damn bad.” Dwalin grunted as he threw himself into Honey’s saddle.
Thorin opened his mouth to protest, but the second he saw his deputy glaring at him, he snapped his mouth shut.
Thorin sighed and tugged on Storm’s reins and gave her a soft nudge.
This was gonna be a long night.
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The road felt as if it would stretch on forever. All there was left to do was follow deer trails, cutting through nearly barren hills or the lands of forgotten homesteads and farms. They were hardly what Thorin would have called standing, almost completely taken back by nature.
He knew this area was once large farms stretching from one house to the next, a community of people who had no issues with anyone, would give you anything if you so much as asked for it.
Thorin doubted its truthfulness, but he had heard that the people from this area would eat nearly 7 meals a day because they had so much food. No one really knew what happened to them, and Thorin supposed no one ever would.
The crisp nip of night started to cut against them as the shadows began to stretch out, like a cat in the midday sun. They were still passing through the forgotten farms and fields, still tracking their way though the rolling hills.
The darkness gave the place a strange otherworldly look, it made a shiver find its way up Thorin’s spine.
Thorin wasn't sure how long he had been riding beside Dwalin, but it had to be well after dawn, three days ago now…?
Thorin cringed at the way the dust clung to his skin and clothes, he could taste it, there was nothing but dust to kick up and he wondered if it would ever wash off.
Thorin’s eyes narrowed against the sun as it dipped lower and lower in the sky. A painful jolt has Thorin gritting his teeth and sucking in a slow deep breath.
It was beginning to become impossible. All he could feel at every strange shift of Storm’s saddle or change in terrain was a fresh stab of pain, rippling through his chest.
Thorin glanced back at Dwalin and their prisoner. The boy they still had with them, was bound by rope as he walked slowly behind Honey.
The lad stumbled when he slowed more than the slack in the rope allowed. Honey shook his head and made a noise of displeasure. The boy was getting tired and so he was getting slower.
But so were the horses, Dwalin had taken the kid off of Honey’s back some hours ago, tied the kids hands up and then to Honey’s saddle.
Thorin knew that the Honey probably didn’t much like having a man tied to the back of his saddle.
Now, Thorin won’t lie, though he tried to talk Dwalin out of making the kid walk, he hadn’t tried very hard. The kid had been talking about Bilbo the entire ride until then.
Thorin was very close to just tying the lad up to a tree and leaving him there, but as he did, he remembered his nephews. The kid couldn’t have been much younger than them.
They would be doing the same as this boy was, threatening to get him or that they would be saved soon by him. Thorin felt guilt crawling up his throat and he looked away as the boy stumbled again.
He could also feel Dwalin casting him a sideways glance, Thorin couldn’t see it but he could almost imagine how Dwalin’s brow furrowed. Dwalin adjusted himself atop Honey before clearing his throat loudly.
Thorin knew Dwalin wanted to say something and Thorin continued to ignore him, gripping Storm’s reins as they rode.
After a mile, Dwalin finally decided to do something, he pulled Honey to a stop in front of Thorin and Storm, the young man tripping over himself to keep up with the horse’s sudden speed, the poor lad all but collapsed to the floor.
“Thorin,” Dwalin said as he gave Thorin a look. “Ya look like hell, come on, off the horse.”
Thorin gave Dwalin an unimpressed look, “I told you-”
Dwalin interrupted him with a groan, the deputy leaned back in his saddle. “Thorin, yer ribs are killin’ ya. I can see it plain as day, hell I bet the kid can see it too, right boy?”
“Well-” the young man said as he struggled himself upright, Dwain interrupted whatever the boy was about to say.
“See? And I know ya gotta be feelin’ it by now. You’re barely sittin’ upright.” Dwalin said as he motioned to Thorin.
Thorin immediately straightened in the saddle, wincing slightly at the movement. “I’m fine,” Thorin rumbled, suddenly finding it harder to take a full breath.
Dwalin’s frown deepened as he quickly dismounted Honey, moving to Storm and taking hold of her reins. “Yer nothin’ close to fine. Yer ribs have got ta be hurtin’, stop acting like an idiot.” Dwalin’s voice was firm, stripping the argument before it fumbled its way out of Thorin’s mouth. “We stop here. Now get off that damn horse.”
Thorin clenched his fists, glaring down at Dwalin, all Thorin could do was glare, anything more and he couldn’t concentrate on making himself breathe.
The pain was unbearable and for a moment, Thorin’s vision swam, the world tilted more than it had, the heat and exhaustion finally seemed to catch up with him.
Thorin knew Dwalin saw it, the deputy reached his hand up fast as a shot, grabbing Thorin’s underarm and pulling him lightly. “Get off the horse, before I pull you down.”
Thorin stayed silent for a moment, blinking the blurriness from his eyes. He could see Dwalin’s face, twisted worry.
Thorin simply started sliding off the horse, Dwalin made a noise Thorin would say was akin to panic, he was quick to help Thorin down.
Thorin tried to hide it, the grimace that crossed his face as his boots hit the ground. Thorin stumbled into Dwalin. “Alright, yer alright” said a voice, it took him far too long to realize that it was Dwalin.
No… No, the voice was too soft for Dwalin. Thorin leaned heavily against Storm as Dwalin pushed him gently into the side of her.
He struggled to steady himself, the pain throbbed through his ribs like a strike of a hammer.
Dwalin waited a long moment before he led Storm off the road and into a shaded patch of trees. He helped Thorin down against the tree
“Remember to breathe Thorin.” A voice rumbled above him and Thorin nodded gently. The air was cooler there, he didn’t feel so sticky, so suffocatingly hot. The air smelled thick of oaky earth. It was quiet, he’s pretty sure he likes it quiet.
“I’m setting up camp– just, breathe Thorin.” Someone, no, Dwalin, grumbled as he disappeared from his sight.
Thorin slumped against the tree, watching as the sky darkened, his ribs screamed at him despite his best efforts to breathe as shallowly as possible.
A thump next to him jolted Thorin, his eyes opened, when he had closed them he couldn’t remember.
The boy, still tied to Honey, flopped over, sitting on the ground next to Thorin. Thorin watched the boy, blinking bleary eyed. Dwalin gave the kid a look then promptly went back to setting up camp.
Thorin watched the boy blankly then to Thorin’s increasing displeasure spoke again and far too loudly for his aching head, “Mr Bilbo’s gonna get me, he’s gonna come free me and give you all hell for this.”
Dwalin snapped at the boy quickly. “Alright, that’s it,” he growled, pulling a rag from his bag. “One more word outta you, and I’ll gag you, do you fuckin’ understand me?!”
The boy opened his mouth as if to protest, Dwalin shook the rag at the boy raising a brow, as if to tell him to try it. The boy clamped his mouth shut.
Dwalin’s voice became a distant murmur as Thorin’s exhaustion caught up with him once again, he grunted when he heard someone say his name. But he couldn’t understand as the steady thrum of pain was already pulling him into a hazy sleep.
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Bilbo slipped carefully off of Myrtle, his boots hitting the pacted dirt of the road with a muffled thud. He patted Myrtle’s neck as he scanned the darkened horizon.
The shadows stretched long and thin under the moonlight, and the faint rustle of fallen leaves stirred in the wind.
Behind him he heard Nori dismount, by the sounds of it in one fluid motion landing lightly next to her, barely making any noise on the hard packed dirt.
“Where did Otho send them?” Bilbo murmured, his voice barely louder than the rustling leaves around him.
Nori shrugged, his eyes darted toward the road ahead before taking Daisy’s reins and walking her off the road, hiding her in the tree line. “‘Down the road’s all he said before I rode out to find you.”
Bilbo let out a frustrated sigh. “Helpful.” He grumbled as he followed after Nori, leading Myrtle next to Daisy on the side of the road.
Nori smirked faintly, shaking his head. “What do you expect? Man’s married to Lobelia.”
Bilbo snorted. “Fair point.” His lips thinned as he adjusted his hat and pulled his bandanna over his mouth hiding his face once again. “Let’s find my boy, then.”
Nori nodded, pulling up his own mask as he followed Bilbo as he took the lead down a nearly invisible deer trail, their boots crunching softly in the leaf litter.
Both men moved with practiced silence. The moonlight painted eerie patterns on the ground, casting shadows that seemed almost alive.
Bilbo hated being this close, this close to-
Suddenly a voice shook Bilbo from whatever thoughts he was having.
“Bilbo,” Nori whispered, pointing out a faint, flickering glow. It seeped through the gaps in the trees affecting the shadows the moon was causing.
Bilbo crouched low with a nod and Nori followed. Bilbo’s eyes were hardly sharp in this darkness. He squinted as he peered at the distant firelight.
The camp was really close to the road, they probably would have walked up on it if they had continued down it earlier, why on earth did they set up camp there?
Bilbo looked at Nori, and decided the man seemed to be thinking the same thing, if the look they shared meant anything.
The fire crackled faintly as Bilbo studied the shadows shifting around it. There was a large shadow stomping its way around camp. Its heavy voice carried over the stillness.
Bilbo moved closer to try to get a better view. Bilbo could make out the large form of Dwalin, he was speaking but the words were lost to the distance.
Bilbo watched him quietly as the deputy moved toward a tree, crouching briefly before stepping aside.
And there, in the firelight, was Frodo.
Bilbo’s breath hitched. His nephew was slumped against the tree, he looked so small like that… he looked battered and bruised despite the low light. The flames danced over his pale face.
Bilbo clenched his fists, his nails biting into his palms angrily. He felt his low simmering rage begin to boil rapidly yet cooled by a dousing of shame at the sight of his nephew possibly bruised by the lawmen hunting him, causing his hands to tremble with the bottled emotions.
Nori’s sharp intake of breath beside him was the only reason he stayed still.
“Boss,” Nori whispered cautiously, he moved to put himself in front of Bilbo. As if that would stop him. “Keep your-”
Bilbo interrupted immediately, his voice low and terrifyingly calm. “I’m going to go get him.”
Nori frowned, his worry plain. “Bilbo… think this through. What about-?”
“Thorin’s sleeping,” Bilbo snapped, “and that deputy is leaving.” His gaze flicked briefly to the firelight, Nori looked as if to check.
Bilbo moved forward, but Nori grabbed his arm. “And how are you so sure it’s gonna stay that way? What if you get caught?”
Bilbo paused for a beat. He tilted his head to Thorn laid up against a tree. “Look at em. See how he’s breathin’? His ribs are hurt- probably from the train.” Then Bilbo pointed off to where Dwalin stomped. “And he’s leaving- and if you keep holding me here, we'll lose the chance.”
The distant firelight glinted in the darkness, Nori narrowed his eyes as he searched Bilbo’s face, the right hand man shook his head and looked away back to the camp.
“God damn it, fine!” Nori said through gritted teeth letting go of him, the right hand man pointed at Bilbo and glared at him. “But make it quick. I’ll keep an eye out for that idiot deputy.”
Bilbo grinned widely, despite Nori not being able to see it, the man huffed and pushed Bilbo. The outlaw slipped forward, moving quickly in the shadows of the woods.
Each step was quick and silent, his boots found the soft patches of dirt between the scattered twigs and leaves. Bilbo hardly had to think as he placed his feet.
As the firelight grew closer, horrid snores cut through the otherwise silence like a gunshot. Bilbo wondered if he even had to be quiet at all
He stood a little taller as he carefully walked through the camp. He looked off again in the direction that he was sure Dwalin had gone. He didn’t hear him, or see him
Bilbo moved quickly, he knelt beside his nephew, “Frodo,” he whispered as he tapped the boy’s cheek.
The boy stirred, his eyes opened quickly. And for a brief moment, confusion covered his face, but a look of relief and disbelief quickly swallowed the confusion. “Uncle?”
“Shh,” the outlaw hushed, he moved his hands in front of him and motioned for the boy to keep his voice low. “Let’s get you out of here, alright?”
Frodo nodded quickly, and Bilbo began cutting the bindings around Frodo’s wrists. He broke through the rope quickly and let it fall away.
But as he began to help his nephew up, he heard a click behind him. Slowly he turned to look, finding a gun pointed right at him, a very angry looking sheriff holding it leveled at his chest.
Bilbo took a quiet breath before tilting his head. “Well, howdy sheriff. How’s them ribs?”
───── ꧁✪꧂ ─────
Note: I think this is pretty good, once again dramatic cliffhanger. I love me some drama. Anyway. A serious big of thank you to @midnightstar789, I don’t think this would hav been done without them. Please do read they’re stuff, give them love and a big thank you to @shurikthereject for letting me take their au idea.
Heartbreak is easy when you yourself have it locked within you, yet it never gets any easier to shoulder.
It has the power to wholeheartedly swallow you whole, rip you apart, choke and drown you. It changes you in the most powerful ways. Yet you mustn’t let it take you forever.
sometimes you have to drag yourself from that ever sinking hole. You mustn’t allow it, let that heart break roll off you and allow your heart a moment to heal.
annaxmalina
blakekathryn
baratheonpilled
yousharknotpass
romaincrisis
2087
