Chapter Text
Bilbo let out a deep sigh of exhaustion and lay his head back onto the bench of the bus stop. Classes today had been absolutely exhausting. He'd been forced to get up extra early this morning in order to take two buses from his home just to get to class on time, and only after reaching the campus for his first class did he learn it was cancelled. Which left him hanging around the campus for an extra two hours just waiting for his other classes to begin. Now he was finally finished, and all he wanted to do was go home, make himself a lovely little cup of tea and curl up with his favorite book. . . At least for a few hours until he had to begin that essay that was due next Wednesday- Bilbo groaned quietly, rifling through his backpack for a moment and pulling out his pipe. He brought it to his lips and took a long drag, laying his head back again and closing his eyes as he released his breath. His eyes fluttered open as he felt a figure sit beside him on the bench.
Bilbo slowly looked the man up and down. He looked much older than most of his classmates. . . But he was far too close to campus for anyone other than students to be using this bus stop. And college students tended to have a large variety of ages among them anyways. Bilbo himself had only begun his AA in English after reaching his fifties. But this man seemed. . . odd. Firstly, he looked homeless. He was wearing an incredibly baggy hoodie, and sweatpants that looked as though they were going to fall off at any moment. It was clear the gray color was not a fashion choice, but rather the clothes had simply lost their color over years of use. Regardless, Bilbo didn't want to be rude to a fellow classmate, and he was pretty sure he spotted the college's insignia on the man's hoodie (even if it was the old insignia, rather than the current one, a symbol that certainly hadn't been used in years).
"Good morning." Bilbo mentioned as he watched the other figure bring a pipe to his own lips.
Bushy eyebrows narrowed at Bilbo from beneath the large hood as a puff of smoke was let out in his direction. ". . . What do you mean by 'good morning'?" the figure demanded, "Do you mean to wish me a good morning? Or do you mean that it is a good morning whether I want it or not? Or that you feel particularly good this morning, or that it is a morning to be good on?"
Bilbo was so startled by such an odd reply to a casual greeting that he simply blinked in shock for a long moment. ". . . Yes?" he asked in reply. Bilbo swallowed and quickly pulled out his phone, typing around to begin a word game on it and pretend that he was busy. He was starting to suspect that this man was not only homeless, but likely addicted to drugs as well and Bilbo wanted nothing more to do with him.
He let out a relieved sigh that he didn't realize he had been holding in as the bus arrived. He stood and gave the man a polite smile, "Good morning!" he called as he stepped into the bus.
"Well now you mean 'get away from me'." The figure mused.
Bilbo didn't turn around, just made his way to a seat near the front of the bus (after flashing his bus pass to the driver) and quickly buried himself in his phone, face burning all the while. Though he felt his embarrassment double as he felt the now horribly familiar sensation of the figure sitting beside him a second time.
"What a lot of things you use good morning for." The man sat back and took out his pipe again. He moved it towards his lips, but as the bus driver snapped at him that smoking wasn't allowed on the bus (who didn't know that?!), he pocketed it again. "To think I would have lived to be 'good morning'd' by Belladonna Took's son, as if I were a homeless drug addict!" the man complained.
Bilbo swallowed and paled. Alright, so not only did this man seem to have the ability to read minds, but he also knew his mother's name. Bilbo wasn't sure whether to be horrified or humiliated. ". . . Sorry, do I know you?" he finally managed.
"Well you know me, even if you do not recognize me." the man crossed his arms with a huff, glaring down at the hobbit beside him.
Bilbo shifted uncomfortably and stared, expectantly, and a tad embarrassed at his lack of memory.
"I am Gandalf." he finally stated.
Bilbo blinked for a moment, ". . . Gandalf my old babysitter?!" he finally managed, eyes widening in awe. Gandalf had babysat all the children from his small suburb. He'd always laughed the loudest, and had the best fireworks and entertainment. The children loved him, the parents trusted him, and he'd been all around beloved. He was well known for wandering around and vanishing for months (sometimes years) at a time, often babysitting multiple generations of a family, but never one to completion. "My word! I had no idea you were still alive- in business!" Bilbo quickly corrected.
"Where else would I be?" Gandalf countered, tilting his head curiously.
Bilbo opened his mouth to say 'dead', but quickly thought better of it and closed it, "I'm not sure." He confessed, shrugging.
Gandalf let out a soft hum, staring Bilbo up and down. "Yes, I think you'll do quite nicely." He decided, nodding to himself.
Bilbo was staring to grow nervous. Gandalf was always up to mischief when he was a child (not that Bilbo the faunt hadn't happily encouraged every mischevious adventure, he was a Took after all! Or. . . at least half Took) and he had the sneaking suspicion that he was going to be dragged into something troublesome in a matter of moments.
"I'm looking for someone to join a fraternity." Gandalf finally said.
Bilbo blinked, "A. . . A fraternity?" he echoed, giving a little laugh, "No, I haven't even finished my AA, I-I don't even go to school full time. I don't think I qualify-"
"Have you been here over a year?" Gandalf asked.
"Yes. Have you?" Bilbo asked, suddenly. Did Gandalf attend this school? Or was he merely an alumni? Or a teacher? Or was he, in fact homeless and on drugs? All seemed plausible with the man's personality and clothing choice.
"Then you qualify." Gandalf decided, pointedly ignoring Bilbo's question. "It'll be very good for you." he decided, then gave the hobbit a little smirk, "And very amusing for me."
"Wha- No, sorry, I'm not interested." Bilbo said, quickly. The bus came to a stop to let someone off. Bilbo stood with it (even though they were across town from his house). "You might try, uh, one of the athletes, maybe? Or the theatre department. Good morning!" he called, and quickly dashed off of the bus. He put a hand over his heart and tried to calm himself down as the bus drove away. That had been a close call. . . He just prayed Gandalf wouldn't find him in the future.
Bilbo Baggins? In a fraternity?! Please, what fraternity would even want a lowly little English major like himself? He wasn't even sure what he was going to do with his future. All he knew was that he loved books. Whether he was going to write them, or teach English, or even edit them, he had no idea. He just wanted to be around them at the end of the day. No, a man with such a discombobulated future had no place in a fraternity.
He shook his head a bit and sat on the bench of the new bus stop. It would be about twenty minutes before the next bus stopped by.
". . . Shit."
Bilbo hummed pleasantly to himself as he lay out a very nice meal . He'd just finished cooking and his dinner was positively lovely! A neat salad with olives and tomatoes (along with a homemade dressing), and some lovely fish that he'd fried just so in his cast iron skillet. The hobbit sat before the meal with a bright smile. And just as he began to cut the first bite, his doorbell rang.
Bilbo frowned curiously. Who would be at his house at this hour? But he rose, and made his way to the door. He opened the round, green door and blinked in surprise as a complete stranger stood on his doorstep. A dwarf, clearly, with a long brown beard, a balding head and a green hoodie on his shoulders.
"Hey." the dwarf greeted, casually stepping into the house, "I'm Dwalin."
". . . I'm Bilbo?" Bilbo replied, too flustered to realize the proper response was to not let the stranger in. ". . . Do I know you?" he finally asked.
"No." Dwalin replied, casually.
Bilbo just stared in awe as the dwarf walked down his hallway removed his hoodie and hung it up on a nearby hook to slowly drip rainwater onto the floor of Bilbo's nice little hobbit hole. "So where's dinner? He said you'd feed us."
"He said?!" Bilbo echoed, confused, "Who's he?!"
In retrospect, it was the 'us' that Bilbo should have been truly concerned with.
The dwarf did not, in fact, answer Bilbo, but instead made himself comfortable at the hobbit's table and began to eat the hobbit's meal. Bilbo was so flummoxed he couldn't do anything but simply stare as the dwarf devoured the entire plate. "You got seconds?' Dwalin asked as he finished.
Bilbo blinked for a moment. He'd settled himself in an awkward corner to watch in shock. "What? Oh, uh, yeah, yeah. . ." he scrambled for a moment, but shortly found a large plate of biscuits and hesitated for just a moment, quietly pocketing one for himself as he handed the rest of the plate over. Bilbo cringed a bit as the dwarf immediately began to shovel them into his mouth, heedless of the time and energy it had taken to make the biscuits.
Bilbo stared on for another moment or two before finally managing to find his voice. ". . . I'm sorry. I just, uh. . . I wasn't expecting anyone-" He was cut off by the sound of the doorbell echoing from down his halls.
". . . Someone's at the door." Dwalin mentioned, helpfully.
Bilbo (for the second time that night) hustled down the long hallway and quickly opened the door. Again, it was an unfamiliar face that greeted him. And again, a dwarf. This one was much older, with a large white beard and a red hoodie on his shoulders. Interestingly enough, both hoodies had the same insignia on them, though Bilbo wasn't sure what it was from.
"Hi! I'm Balin!" the dwarf greeted, cheerfully.
Bilbo just stared for a long moment. ". . . Hi. . ." he replied, dazed.
Balin stepped into the hall and leaned closer to Bilbo, nearly whispering in his ear, "Am I late?" he asked, worriedly.
". . . Late for what?!" Bilbo asked, anxiously. He was starting to grow very confused and very concerned.
Though before Balin could answer him, he spotted Dwalin in the hallway just behind Bilbo.
"OH!!!" Balin called, grinning as he stepped towards the man, "If it isn't my favorite little brother!" he teased, playfully.
"Ah, if it isn't the old man!" Dwalin taunted, grinning right back at him, "You're fatter and whiter than Christmas."
"Whiter I'll give you." Balin admitted, "But fatter I'll fight ya for." he threatened.
The duo laughed and grasped each other by the shoulders, before happily slamming their heads together.
Bilbo stared from a few feet off. ". . . What the fuck?" he whispered to himself. He shook his head and stepped towards the duo, "Sorry, I think you've got the wrong house-" he began.
The dwarves, heedless of Bilbo's protests, began to make themselves comfortable. Going through his pantry and dolling out food to one another. Dwalin cracked open two beers and handed one to Balin.
"Look, I don't mind people-" Bilbo began, "I love people- e-especially new people! But usually we've met . . .uh, beforehand, before they're invited into my home." He dodged as a piece of food was thrown out of his pantry and onto the floor. "I just- um. . ." he hesitated, growing a bit embarrassed, "I have no idea who the hell you are." he admitted, "I don't recognize either of you. I don't mean to be rude, but I-I had to come out and say it. I'm sorry." Bilbo sighed as he finished his nervous spiel.
The dwarves stilled as they were silenced, glancing towards the hobbit for a moment. "Apology accepted!" Balin assured with a happy grin. He then turned right back to continue destroying the hobbit's pantry.
Bilbo floundered there for another moment or two, opening then closing his mouth, unable to think of anything intelligible to say, before the doorbell rang yet again.
Bilbo nearly cried as he opened his door yet again, and instead of one found two unfamiliar dwarves standing on his doorstep. These two were young, one blonde, one brunet.
"I'm Fili!" the blonde chirped.
"I'm Kili!" the brunet echoed.
"Nice to meet you!" they cooed together.
"You must be Mister Boggins!" Kili said, excitedly.
"Nope! Sorry! Wrong house!" Bilbo called, attempting to slam the door on the duo.
Kili rushed forward to catch the door before it could be closed. "What?! Has it been cancelled?!" he asked, anxiously.
"And no one told us?!" Fili added, sadly.
"Cance- No nothing's been cancelled." Bilbo replied, confused.
"Oh, what a relief." Kili sighed, pushing his way in. The two walked right past Bilbo without any qualms and immediately began to wipe their feet off on his belongings.
Both boys tossed their rain-soaked hoodies over Bilbo's furniture without any care, and while Bilbo was busy fretting over the sweatshirts (and noting that they both also had the same insignias as the other dwarve's), he hadn't realized what they were muddying up.
"This is a nice place!" Kili mused, looking around, eyes sparkling as he investigated, "You do it?" he asked, running his finger around in the air a bit.
"Uh. . . No, its' been in the family for years- That is my mother's glory box!" Bilbo scolded angrily as the boy began to wipe mud onto it, "Don't do that!" Bilbo complained whined, miserably.
And suddenly Dwalin was in the hallway again, grabbing Kili by the shoulder. "Boys! Come help!" he commanded.
"Dwalin!" Kili wrapped the man in a hug before following him down the hallway.
"Alright, shove this into the hallway or we'll never get everyone in." Balin instructed, pushing a large clock towards Fili.
"'Everyone'?!!!" Bilbo echoed in horror, "How many more of you are there?!!" he demanded. And just as he had begun to fear the worst, the doorbell rang.
"No! NO! FUCK OFF!!!!" Bilbo yelled angrily as he stomped his way down the hallway, throwing the wet hoodies in his hand on the floor in a heap of hobbit fury. "NO ONE'S HERE!!! GO AWAY!!! I've had enough dwarves in my house for a lifetime!!! I don't know who's pulling this shit, but this is NOT an appropriate joke!!!"
He threw open the door without hesitation and jumped as eight dwarves tumbled in, one being piled on top of the other and groaning in pain. Bilbo stared in shock for a moment, then he spotted a figure behind them, grinning down at the hobbit.
". . . Gandalf." Bilbo recognized, voice hissing out of his throat with frustration.
Gandalf let out a soft hum as he did a headcount of dwarves in the house. "Fili, Kili. . ." he mused, completely ignoring the complaints of an angry hobbit that were audible behind him.
"No! NO. Absolutely not."
"Balin, Dwalin. . ."
"Put that back right now!!!"
"Oin, Gloin . . . "
"Where the hell did you even find that?!!!"
"Ori, Dori, Nori. . . "
"That is an ANTIQUE!!! It is not for sitting on!"
"Bifur, Bofur, Bombur. . . We're one short." Gandalf frowned.
"He's just running a bit late." Dwalin assured from the corner where he'd made himself comfortable, "You know him. He's got a shit sense of direction."
Gandalf let out a little chuckle, "Indeed he does." he agreed with a playful smirk and a fond nod.
Bilbo stared on in horror as every last scrap of food that had been sitting in his pantry, was now laid out on a grand table and eaten by everyone in the house except for the one man whom it actually belonged to.
". . .I'm about to lose my fucking mind." Bilbo whispered, stepping away from the group, fueld by pure rage. "Fuck every last one of these dwarves!" he hissed angrily.
"Ah, relax, Bilbo." Gandalf grinned, "The dwarves are great!" The duo watched as a set of brothers began to play tug of war with the curtains. ". . . Once you get used to them-"
"Get used to them?!" Bilbo let out a bitter laugh, "Not happening. These assholes have completely destroyed my house. I want them GONE!!!" He couldn't do anything but put his head in his hands and wish for the night to be over with.
"Aww. . . Don't be sad." Ori frowned, holding out a cookie towards the distressed hobbit.
Bilbo was quiet for a moment as he took it, ". . . Thank you. . ." he said, softly.
Ori scurried off, whispering in his brother's ear. Nori nodded and whispered it into Dori's ear and off down the line the whisper went. They knew just the thing to cheer up a sad man. A drinking song!
Before Bilbo knew what was happening a loud drinking song was echoing through his halls while he quietly nibbled on his cookie and tried to figure out where his life went wrong. It was almost a relief when a loud knock was heard on the door. Bilbo didn't bother sprinting this time, just hung his head and dejectedly made his way to the door.
"Welcome to hell." he greeted miserably as he opened the door upon yet another dwarf.
This one was in a suit and tie and blinked down at the hobbit. ". . . What the hell have they done now?" he grumbled, marching in.
Bilbo was quite surprised to note that this one at least wiped his feet before entering. The well-dressed arrival marched right past Bilbo and straight to the room the dwarves had settled in.
"OI!!!" His voice had a deep presence to it and as he yelled out the syllable all other voices in the room fell silent. "This place is a fucking mess! Clean it up right now!!!" he demanded, pointing into the hallway.
In an instant all twelve dwarves were scurrying out of the room and busying themselves tidying the hobbit's house.
Bilbo looked as though he might cry with joy as he rushed to the suited figure and shook his hand, "Bless you."
The dwarf stared down at the hobbit. "Don't. They're my problem, it's my fault for thinking I could leave them on their own for an hour. . ." he shook his head with a tired sigh. "You wouldn't happen to have alcohol, would you?"
"Anything you'd like." Bilbo promised, earnestly.
Gandalf let out a little chuckle as he watched the exchange, he had been the only one not to rise from the table, but he rose from it now. "Allow me to introduce the leader of our company; Thorin Oakenshield."