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Published:
2016-01-03
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1,665
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1/1
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Mirkwood Mushrooms

Summary:

It's common sense not to eat mushrooms found in a dark and sinister forest, right?
Tell that to a hungry hobbit.

Notes:

This was a birthday present for Quel, inspired by her de-aged bagginshield fan art.

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

The company stared in silence at their leader and their burglar as they stood in front of them in a Mirkwood clearing. One moment Thorin and Bilbo had been sitting peacefully, eating their rations of whatever could be gathered of mushrooms and berries in this dark forest, and the next they had dropped to at least half their size.

Their clothes hung from their narrow shoulders, Thorin’s fur coat dragging behind him on the forest floor while Bilbo’s trousers had finally reached a sensible length, covering everything down to his ankles. Even Thorin’s beard had been reduced to the smallest of whiskers.

Glóin was the first to speak. ‘They’ve turned into children!’

‘It’s elf magic!’ Dwalin sputtered next to him.

‘And Gandalf has left us alone in this cursed forest!’ Dori chimed in.

‘Calm down,’ Balin said, ‘everybody calm down and let us think about this.’ His gaze lowered to the forgotten pile of mushrooms and berries at Bilbo’s and Thorin’s feet. ‘Does anyone know what these two were eating before this- this change?’

‘It must have been something only the two of them were eating,’ Nori said as he lounged against a nearby tree. ‘Otherwise, the rest of us would have shrunk, too.’

‘Uh, I might have an inkling what it is,’ Ori piped up.

The others turned from the unsettling sight of their leader as a beardless child to look at the youngest member of their company.

Ori’s hands disappeared into his sleeves. ‘I was with Bilbo when we were gathering the mushrooms – over in that direction – and he found a couple of pale yellow ones which he said were great delicacy in the Shire. And since he had already proclaimed long and loud to Thorin about hobbit produce, he wanted to share these mushrooms especially with him. There were only a few, after all.’

‘Mushrooms?’ Óin held up his ear trumpet. ‘What shape were they? Any spots? Any stripes?’

‘I--’ Ori hesitated. ‘I didn’t notice.’

‘That’s settled then,’ Balin said, ‘Ori, you’ll take Óin to the place where Bilbo found the mushrooms. Maybe there’ll be others to inspect. Bifur, you’ll go with them as a lookout.’ He turned back to look at the two children as the trio left the clearing. ‘The rest of us will stay here to – to babysit.’

Kíli laughed from where he sat. ‘They’re hardly babies, Balin.’

Dwalin turned. ‘This is no laughing matter, lad. Your uncle has turned into a defenceless child!’

‘You’ll have to excuse Kíli,’ Fíli said, sitting next to his brother. ‘But he’s just so happy that there’s finally a dwarf in the company with a shorter beard than his!’ He laughed too, ducking a tap on the arm from his brother as he did.

Their laughter petered out. The group descended into silence as they stared at the two children. Finally, Bombur tentatively offered, ‘we could eat while we wait?’

The others murmured their agreement, and they sat down with the remains of their meal. Dwalin, who was closest to Thorin, picked up the discarded mushrooms and berries and made to pile them into the child’s hands.

‘Yuck!’ Thorin wrinkled his nose at the food and tore his hands away. ‘I don’t like mushrooms.’

‘It doesn’t matter what you like,’ Dwalin said. ‘You just have to eat them.’

‘No, don’t want mushrooms.’ Thorin crossed his arms and shook his head very emphatically.

‘I like mushrooms!’ Bilbo said next to them as he picked his food from Bofur’s outstretched hand.

‘Well, I don’t.’

‘That’s silly. Mushrooms taste really, really good.’

‘No, they don’t. They taste like dirt and, and- and pillows.’

Bilbo tilted his head to the side. ‘You don’t know what pillows taste like.’

‘Yes, I do!’

Bilbo had abandoned Bofur and his hand filled with food. ‘What do they taste like then?’

‘They taste like mushrooms!’

‘No, they don’t because mushrooms are nice!’

‘No, they’re not!’

‘Yes, they are!’

‘No, they’re not!’

‘Yes, they are!’

‘Boys!’ Balin interrupted. ‘You’ll bring an entire army of elves down on us with the noise you’re making.’ He sighed, rubbing his forehead. ‘Why don’t you, Thorin, ask Bilbo nicely to trade some of his berries for your mushrooms? And then you’ll both be happy – and preferably quieter,’ he finished with a mutter.

Thorin’s crossed arms tightened as he looked down at his over-sized boots. The company held their breath as they looked at his bent head.

Thorin mumbled, ‘d’you wanna trade?’

The company turned their heads as one to look at Bilbo.

The tiny hobbit kicked his feet out from the tree stump where he said. ‘You have to say please.’

Thorin sighed. ‘Please, do you want to trade my mushrooms for your berries?’

Bilbo smiled. ‘Alright,’ he said and scooped up his berries from Bofur and let them tumble into Thorin’s hand, picking out the mushrooms in return.

Bilbo and Thorin sat quietly after that, finishing their meagre meals together with the company.

As soon as Bofur popped the last of his food in his mouth, he fished out a small knife from his belt and hunched down to the forest floor, picking through the leaves and moss until he found what he was looking for – a small piece of a fallen branch.

He sat back on his seat and started pulling his knife along the outer sides of the wood, working it into a familiar shape.

Bilbo shifted closer to him. ‘What are you doing?’

‘Whittlin’ a horse.’ Bofur held up the vaguely quadruped-looking animal for Bilbo to see.

‘Oh, yes!’ Bilbo sat up on his knees and leaned over Bofur’s shoulder to look closer. ‘Look, there are its legs, its tail and its nose.’ He sat back down on his knees and gazed up at Bofur in fascination. ‘Can you teach me to wh-whittle?’

‘Uh…’Bofur turned the handle of his knife in his hand. ‘You’re bit too young to use a knife. Maybe when you’re older.’

Kíli chuckled. ‘What? Older than fifty?’ He laughed louder, most of the company joining him in his merriment.

‘Don’t laugh at Bilbo!’ Thorin suddenly shouted; his small, thin voice a far cry from his usual booming depths. But the company still quieted.

He stood up and held out his hand for Bilbo to take. ‘Come play with me.’

Bilbo was still sitting close to Bofur. He looked up at the dwarf. ‘Do you want to play with us?’

‘No, Bilbo,’ Thorin whined, ‘just you and me.’

‘Go on, Bilbo,’ Bofur said with a barely repressed grin. ‘I’ll have this horse finished for you when you’re done.’

Bilbo grabbed Thorin’s hand and stood. ‘Come on, Thorin,’ he said, leading the way. ‘We can play horses!’

Balin looked to his brother. ‘Dwalin…’

‘Of course.’ The large dwarf stood up, his huge battle axes on his back as he followed the children away from the clearing.

Balin rubbed the back of his head. ‘How long have Ori, Óin and Bifur been away by now?’

Dori sighed. ‘Too long!’

Just then there was a rustle in the bushes behind them. Fíli and Kíli were the first on their feet, their weapons grasped in their hands as they scanned the greenery until they saw Ori’s gloved hands pushing through the bushes, followed by Óin and Bifur.

‘Well?’ Balin stood up, his hands on his belt.

Óin came to stand in the middle of the clearing. ‘I know the mushroom. One of the rarer of the Briar species, probably some elvish mutation, to be honest. But what makes it dangerous is that it is indistinguishable from other harmless mushrooms. That was probably why Bilbo was fooled.’

Someone spoke, saying what they were all thinking. ‘D-dangerous?’

‘Yes.’ Óin nodded before he looked around and saw the worried faces in the clearing. ‘But it’s only temporary,’ he quickly added. ‘The effect will wear off once the mushroom has gone through their body.’

‘So sometime tomorrow?’ Balin asked. ‘That settles it. We’ll bed down here for tonight and hope that our burglar and our leader will have returned to us in the morning.’

A murmur of agreement rose up around him, and the dwarves started to unfurl their bedrolls.

 

The next day, Thorin was steadily leading his company through the winding paths of Mirkwood, though all of his focus was on ignoring his nephews walking at the back of the group.

‘Uncle Thorin!’ Fíli called.

‘Uncle Thorin, do you want to play horses?’ Kíli shouted over the heads of the other dwarves.

‘Don’t be silly, Kíli,’ Fíli loudly added, ‘you know Uncle Thorin only wants to play horses with Bilbo.’

‘Oh, yes. Maybe the next time we stop, they’ll step away together for a game of horses.’

Loud laughter followed, hitting Thorin on the back of the head.

‘Ignore them,’ Bilbo murmured as he caught up with Thorin, walking next to him. ‘I don’t know why they’re laughing at you. I’m the one who doesn’t know his mushrooms.’

‘Óin said it was an easy mistake to make.’

‘Still, I wouldn’t want news of this to reach my neighbours back home.’

‘I wouldn’t want news of this to reach any corner of Middle-earth,’ Thorin answered with a wry smile in Bilbo’s direction.

Bilbo chuckled. ‘True enough.’ He glanced at Thorin before asking, ‘do you really not like mushrooms?’

Thorin looked straight ahead, clearing his throat. ‘No.’

‘Then why did you eat those I brought to you?’

‘Because you were so excited about finding them.’ Thorin looked down at Bilbo shortly. ‘And you wanted to share them with me especially. How could I say no to that?’

Bilbo smiled as he looked down at his bare feet and Thorin’s boots walking next to each other. A touch of warmth settled in his middle but he kept walking, glancing up at Thorin from time to time.

And he resolved then and there that the next time he was sent out to gather food in the forest, he would find Thorin nothing but the juiciest and plumpest of berries.

Notes:

And Quel drew some art inspired by this fic.

 

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