TINY BILBO
Tie to try to get into the writing game again. Starting with answering some very patient asks
Tiny borrower! Hobbit! Borrower Hobbit? Bilbo! Thorin, very grumpy, some fear and shaking of tinies
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Thorin had the directions.
He had the map.
He had followed that blasted old wizards instructions down to the LETTER, and yet he was STILL LOST!
His grumblings did not remain contained, and traveled out to his clenched fists where the map had been crumpled, and down to his feet which stomped as he carried on marching.
Really now, where was this blasted Prancing Pony?
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Bilbo had never heard such a ruckus!
Away in his hobbit hole, safe from any big folk, Bilbo had prepared the loviest of diners: A few drops of aged mullberry wine, a pile of roasted chestnuts, a beautiful ripe grape and a plate of sharp soft yellow cheddar. He had expected a nice quiet evening now that the town hand settled down and gone to bed, but apparently that was out of the question.
He sighed and leaned his elbow against the table as what sounded like whoever was stomping around up there was going around for the fourth time! Perhaps he could offer a little assistance. Just to set the traveler on their merry way of course.
If it helped make the evening peaceful once more, well then, that was just an added incentive wasn’t it?
Strictly speaking it was against the hobbit code to talk to anyone over two feet tall, but there had been a few instances where he hand bent the rule. A tall grey wizard, with the most spectacular fireworks came to Bilbos mind as he left his table and his underground home, to climb an old rain barrel just above.
Taking a well earned breath as he reached the top, he settled his feet over the rim and looked for the cause of his ruined - ahem, looked for the lost traveler.
There was a surly looking dwarf out in the rain, wandering around. He kept turning his head down to look at a crumbly old map, then stopped to grumble out some words that Bilbo could not quite catch.
It was a good thing it was dark. Otherwise there would have been a chance Bilbo could be spotted. Bilbo cleared his throat and decided to get things under way quickly so he could go back home.
“Hello? Excuse me, I couldn’t help but see you look rather lost.”
Bilbos words caught the dwarf by surprise. He froze and looked around sharply for the voice.
“Where are you? Come out and show yourself.”
It was almost amusing to Bilbo, seeing the slight irritation this conversation was beginning to cause the dwarf. His forehead had noticeably furrowed, and now confusion was a word that could be added to his description.
“I must apologize, but I simply can’t show myself, I uh, have a bit of a bad skin condition going on right now. Wouldn’t want you to catch it.” Bilbo lied easily.
The dwarf turned and pinpointed his voice, but did not go towards him.
“What kind of skin condition?” He questioned suspiciously.
“Unimportant. But uh, are you lost per chance? I could point you in the right direction. I happen to know the area very well.”
The dwarf looked to his map again and huffed. “I need to locate the prancing pony. Is it near?"
Bilbo nearly snorted, his evening, interrupted, because a dwarf could not find the most well known bar in all of this side of the river!
“No. No I’m afraid not. The prancing Pony is one town over, you are in the Shire.”
At his words, the dwarf tore the map up into shreds and cast them to the ground.
“This is the last time I trust in the words of meddlesome wizards!”
Bilbo was about to leave, but stopped, his curiosity getting the better of him. “Wizards? Which wizard?”
Irritatedly, the dwarf stepped towards Bilbos voice. “Not that it is any of your concern, but Gandalf the Grey.”
Bilbo decided it was time to go before he was spotted. “Ah well, I just Happen to have run into him once or twice.” he swung his legs over the rim and began to descend. “Er, I believe it is time for me to go.”
He nearly fell as the dwarf reached the barrel and jerked it aside in order to find the mysterious voice.
“Where are you! I, Thorin Oakenshield demand you come out and reveal yourself!”
Bilbo had expected many things that evening, but a drenched angry dwarf, yelling at him, ordering him to come show himself, after he had tried to offer some friendly directions of all things, was not one of them.
Bilbo kept quiet and tried to climb down faster, but slipped against the slick wood and yelped as he barely hung on.
Thorns eyes were on him like a hawk spotting its prey. In one swift move he leaned forwards and grabbed Bilbo in a meaty calloused fist.
Bilbo shrieked and froze up as the dwarfs steel blue eyes pinned him down from under mops of black soggy hair.
“What are you? Are you a some magic trick? Some mischievous pixie trying to trick me? Make me become more lost than already am??” He shook his fist violently side to side, making bilbo jerk around.
Bilbo cried and quickly answered. “No! No! I’m a hobbit! A Hobbit!!”
Thorns hand stopped at once. “A hobbit?” he recalled that Gandalf had mentioned them at one point or another, saying how useful they were. This one seemed rather useless. “And what are you doing out here? And why are you..so small.”
Bilbo could feel Thorins hand loosening up, and could hear his voice become less angry. He took several breaths and tried to reassure himself that he was not going to die.
Hopefully.
“I.. I was trying to help you find your way... because you were stomping around above my home.” He added. “And I’m always this small, all hobbits are this small.”
Thorins throat rumbled as he hummed. “I see. Well, I should get on my way.”
Bilbo sighed and sat up expecting to be put back down or something, but instead he was tipped unceremoniously into a pocket, and tucked away!
“Hey! You cant do this! I have a home, a bed and a place to go back to! Let me go!” He demanded, standing on wobbly feet in the pocket.
Thorins finger came up and pushed him back down. “I'll bring you back, but first you are going to help me get to the prancing pony, then I will release you.”
“WHAT! You cant do this I-” the finger came back and bilbo realizes he was yelling at someone who could easily crush him! He tried to duck away from the fingers, but the back of his vest was grabbed, and he was forcefully lifted from the pocket and dangled in front of Thorins face.
“Are you taking back your offer of help Hobbit?” his voice was neutral, but to the Hobbit it might as well have been a growl.
Bilbos feet flailed over a five foot drop to the ground.
“N-No! I-I would be glad to help!” He squeaked.
This was the first time Bilbo saw Thorin smile, but it did not put him at ease at all.
“Good.”
He placed bilbo back in the pocket and continued on. He would have to ask Gandalf about its usefulness when he got there.
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That's all I got
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