Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Thorín was standing in front of the huge bay window of his flat on 5th Avenue, where the view was absolutely magnificent. The famous Central Park was right at his feet, the weather was fine today and lots of people were out for a stroll. He could have done the same, but no, it was the weekend and, for once, the agency had not offered him any appointments.

Two whole days that he would devote solely to rest. He was not a loner, he liked to go out, but right now he wanted a bit of peace and quiet. The last few weeks had been exhausting, both physically and mentally. He and his brother had finalised the purchase of a small jeweler’s shop on the verge of bankruptcy and had managed to save all the jobs, which was a good thing.

It had been satisfactory, as it always was, and he spent a few minutes admiring the view before turning to the piano.

He tapped absentmindedly on the keys as he passed, then moved over to the sofa.

Picking up a book from the coffee table, he made himself comfortable and began to read quietly.

How long had it been since he had had an evening to himself?
In fact, he did. He had a lot. Too many, in fact...

Well, except for Fridays and Saturdays, which were often very busy. The head of the agency, Miss Bowman, was demanding and required the same of her employees. But as she was very strict in choosing her clients and the people who worked for her, he never had any problems. Well, yes, he did, but that was not really a big problem in itself. He had a very good reputation. And word of mouth, in these cases, well, it was the best form of advertising. As if he needed that...

oOoOo

No, he did not really need money, he was what was known as an heir.

Thraín, his father, had started at the bottom of the ladder, as a labourer in the mine. But fascinated by the precious stones that he and the others extracted from the rock, and after many years of hard work, he managed to save enough money to open a small jeweler’s shop. His work was quickly appreciated, and since then the Durín family has owned several of them, specialising in the production of unique jewels that are highly prized by high society.

Thorín was very young when his father first took him into the workshop at the back of the shop, and he was impressed by the colour of the molten metal and the transparency of the precious stones, which the lapidaries were carefully cutting. Working the metal until it was as fine as a hair, or taking tools that seemed so small in his hands, to fashion delicate designs had become a passion. And it still was, even if it was always surprising to see that a man of his standing preferred to roll up his sleeves and work with his hands rather than tie a tie.

Music was another of his passions.
It was undoubtedly the proximity of Greenwood that had triggered this love in the young boy. When he was not at the workshop, he attended the concerts that the musicians often played in the open air, and as his favourite instrument was the piano, (1) he would have been happy to join them. In the hope of joining the band, he had put aside his dislike for Thranduil, the conductor who thought he was a king, but as his father disliked "the blonde diva", as he liked to call him, he had never been able to do so...

Fortunately, Thraín had not needed to push his sons to work for the Company. Frerín, his younger brother, was in charge of all the accounting and legal aspects, while he looked after the supply of raw materials and delivery of the jewellery ordered. With customers all over the world, they even had the luxury of buying a small aeroplane.

And because Thorín liked to get away from it all, he had passed his pilot's licence, which made things easier for them.
Surrounded only by men, Dís, the youngest of the three children, had developed a strong-willed character and, as she had very early discovered an undeniable talent for design, she had joined the Company without any problem, leaving the management to her brothers. Design was her thing, the rest, no...

She had always had a gift for finding the shapes and colours of the stones that would make up a piece of jewellery, often under the amazed gaze of Thorín and Frerín. Like her very first creation, an enormous silver and ruby ring. Who could afford to wear such an ostentatious piece of jewellery?
But it was all the rage among high society. And a trend had been set, increasing the popularity of Durín jewellery, which was now a must-have luxury accessory.

Since then, they have not said a word, even if they sometimes look at the end result with a doubtful pout...
Not far from Greenwood, with its thousand-year-old trees, was Dale, a famous medieval town with a magnificent belfry, and in between was Erebor, where he had grown up. It was a pleasant town to live in, and just behind it lay the no less famous "Lonely Mountain" and is mine, renowned for their gems of unparalleled beauty.

The Durín’s wealth, which was already considerable, had increased still further when Thraín had bought it from Azog, his former boss, who found it hard to digest the fact that a ridiculous little man had succeeded in doing what no one had ever dared to do before.
But his son Bolg had incurred so many debts that he had no choice but to give in...

Since then, the two families have had a fierce hatred for each other, fuelled by the patriarch Durín's systematic purchase of everything Azog coveted. Moreover, Thorín was still convinced that it was he who had ordered the murder of his father, who was found drowned in the River Celduin a few years later. The car had been badly damaged, but the police had never been able to prove it...

Having lost their mother at an early age, this mysterious and tragic disappearance had left the three of them orphans, but the ordeal had brought them closer together and they had coped quite well.
Even though he loved his job, Thorín spent a lot of time with Dwalín, his childhood friend, with whom he still did the odd thing. Like the time when, flying over Angmar, a desert region that is steep and dangerous because of the frequent landslides, on board the Company's plane, Dwalín spotted something that struck him as strange.

And as if to confirm his words, after Thorín had landed the plane, a man with enormous bulging blue eyes and hardly any hair or teeth left jumped on them, beating them, and bellowing that they had no right to be here and would not take his "precious" away from him.

Dwalín may have been a force of nature, but he was as gentle as a teddy bear and after easily subduing the poor creature, they tied him up before taking him on board with them. DNA tests were carried out and it turned out that the man, who had been identified as Gollum Smeagol, had gone missing more than twenty years earlier, which explained his state of dementia.

Since then, he had been living in a psychiatric hospital, unable to resume a normal life. 

Not far from the family home, a huge manor house that he had left to his brother and sister without any regrets, Thorín had his own flat. It was not very big, but it was empty all the same. He lived alone, but he liked the peace and quiet, so he did not mind, even if he was not a monk...
He had adventures.

But he was getting a bit fed up with going out with beautiful women, tastefully dressed, and well behaved among the beautiful people. It seemed that in this rather closed sphere, they did not know how to talk about anything other than their hairdresser or manicurist. Not to mention the latest fashionable designer, something you absolutely had to have, or you would look like a nerd. (2)

Their company was certainly not unpleasant and for a cocktail party, having one on your arm felt good. Ending the evening with her in bed was not bad either, especially as most of them did not even wait for him to make the first move. He was a good catch and was rather well made of himself.

But the thought of living with one of them gave him the shivers.
He was still young, and the prospect of a routine life did not particularly appeal to him. So one day, tired of spending his evenings in the company of people who only wanted his money, he decided to do something different. So he went back to the manor to tell his brother that he wanted a change of scene.

Frerín laughed before looking at him seriously, gently reminding him that there was no way he was going to do his job as well as his own. Thorín finally gave in with a sigh, so he would remain contactable, although he hoped he would not be needed unless it was an emergency.

After all, the people who worked for them knew their job and he was not the only pilot in the world...
Having done that, he left his flat, but did not sell it. It was a very good investment and who knows, he might want to come back to it one day?
In any case, he had made some very successful investments and had the means to go elsewhere. Full of new energy, he packed his bags and set off on an adventure...

oOoOo

He had then landed on the other side of the country, in New York and more precisely in Manhattan. It did not take him long to find a place to live, having fallen in love almost immediately with a gigantic loft, which he bought for a hefty sum. And what is more, it had a magnificent view of Central Park!
It was while wandering around one evening (in fact he had got lost, but he would never admit it) that he had passed a door. He glanced at it casually, but two steps further, he stopped dead in his tracks, frowning.

He turned around and stopped in front of it, opening his eyes wide in awe and intrigue. No, he had not been dreaming, it was what he thought he saw...
What set it apart from the others was the knocker in the center.
Just as he was about to continue on his way, the door opened and a young woman stepped through.

-Well, I do not think you will have any problem getting hired! She exclaimed with a great smile.

-Engage? He repeated, astonished by such familiarity.

-Come on, sweetheart, do not be shy! You know, Miss Bowman has never eaten anyone, and I am sure she will love you! And who knows, maybe one day we will be working together? 

After an appreciative glance, the young woman left, not without giving him a little wink and a superb smile. Driven by curiosity, Thorín let his fingers caress the magnificent, almost translucent stone, which shone as if lit from within, and entered...

oOoOo

Thorín dropped his reading for a few seconds and looked at his watch. It was not very late, but he was hungry and did not feel like cooking. And just as he was about to pick up his phone to order something, it rang. Sighing, he picked up, hoping it was not his brother.

-Mr. Oakenshield, I am delighted to have you! To be honest, I did not really believe it, but...

Thorín winced. He recognised the voice of his "boss".

-I know I promised you I would not use your services today, but right now you are the only one I have got available. I hope you do not mind...

-I do not know... for once I thought I would have Saturday to myself.

-I know... and I am sorry, but this is really a cry for help!

Thorín hoped that the little snigger he could not hold back had escaped his interlocutor...

-This afternoon, I received a call from a young woman who was really very annoyed...

After another sigh, Thorín tilted his head back and waited for the rest. Even though he could pronounce the sentences he was about to hear almost word for word.
She had been invited to a party, but she was alone, and she absolutely had to have a date, otherwise she would be seen as someone who was not very sociable in the eyes of the others...

-She was really embarrassed, and I could not refuse, you understand.

Thorín understood above all that Bowman, even if her agency did not need any more recognition, would never have passed up the opportunity to prove that she could be counted on at any time. And he imagined her sitting behind her glass desk, smiling.
Yes, she had to smile, because she knew perfectly well that none of her employees would have refused...

-And of course, given the urgency of the situation, I made it clear to this young woman that there should be financial compensation...

Well, let us see... In his opinion, it was above all this part of the contract that had made her accept!
And yet, according to him, she did not really need that to make a living. Her agency had built up an excellent reputation among New York society for several years already.

-... of course, you will receive your percentage of the commission, as usual.

-No more? Thorín exclaimed ironically.

He had absolutely no need of this pocket money, as he liked to call it, but here it was purely for the pleasure of enraging Miss Bowman.
That too irritated him a little. Not being able to call her anything other than "Miss Bowman" reminded him a lot of a brothel-keeper in his opinion...

-Just listen...

-You see, this evening...

-Were not you going to go out? Worried his boss.

-Well, to tell you the truth... Thorín began.

No, he had not planned to go out, he just wanted a meal delivered...

-Well, it is agreed. Since I am forcing your hand a little, I will give you an extra 10%, how is that?

10%?? He could not stop laughing.

-Mr. Oakenshield!

Oops! He probably should not have let himself go like that...

-You really are hellish! You are taking advantage of the situation and I am wondering if I did the right thing by hiring you in the first place... She continued in a tone intended to be dramatic.

Thorín smiled, perfectly aware that she was trying to win him over.

-You know as well as I do that you cannot do without my services. I know it, you know it and your clients know it. I am the best! There is no one else like me and that is why you will be going up to say... 20%? (3)

He knew he was exaggerating, that it sounded very condescending of him, but as he had no doubts about her popularity at these parties, he wanted to see how much she needed him. There was a blank, which lasted a few seconds. Then there was a sigh and finally she spoke...

-Well, that is agreed... the evening starts at 8.30 p.m. But before that, you have an appointment at 6.30 p.m. at the New-York Palace Hotel, I suppose you know where it is? So we will be given you an evening dress, as well as the invitation card and the name of the young lady you will be accompanying. I have every confidence in you as to the means of transport you will use, as this must be an exceptional evening. 

Thorín twitched when he heard the name of the hotel. It was a palace he had been to several times, to deliver jewellery sets ordered by wealthy clients.
That was going to be a problem. What if an employee recognised him? Or worse still, a customer? Unaware of Thorín's deep reflection on how he should behave if that were to happen, his interlocutor continued to speak.

-It is an evening given in honour of researchers in agronomy. It is a bit like Silicon Valley, but for agriculture. The preservation of the planet's resources is the favourite subject of politicians at the moment, so there will be a lot of good people there, and you are the only one who will not be...

-I beg your pardon? But you know I do not like this kind of demonstration! Thorín protested.

Damn it, he was sure he had been had. He hated dressing up as a penguin! (4)

-I would say a task, next to your date. She is still going to receive the "Excellence" award. What do you think? Bowman continued, undaunted by her employee's repartee.

-What then? Thorín replied, lost in thought.

-Will you accept?

-I do not know... I had really planned to stay at home in peace...

If his "one-night stand" did not have a date and she was going to receive a prize, she was not going to be very engaging, even if judging someone without knowing them was not very nice of him. And spending him time in a lab mixing products, each more nauseating than the last, was not going to help anyone's character either... 

-All right, I accept. He finally said in a bored tone (5)

After all, if she was going to receive a prize it was because she was intelligent, so she should have some conversation at least. Hopefully, she would not drown him in the details of the research she had done...

-I knew I could count on you. I am going to leave you now; you have just got time to get ready. Have a good evening, Mr. Oakenshield. And do not forget the flowers!

Thorín did not have time to answer before the beep-beep sounded in his ear. He looked down at his phone, a sneer on his lips. She should have known by now that he was not a man to forget such details. He was not at all ashamed of his name, but it was too well known. That was why he had preferred to call her by the nickname his friends had given him.
And he had always wondered if she did not know who he really was or if she was just pretending.

Was she using the fact that she had a member of a wealthy family as an employee to negotiate more lucrative contracts?
He put the phone down and huffed. He no longer needed to have food delivered, there would certainly be tons of food at the banquet that normally closed this kind of evening.
He looked at his watch. 18h00. Just enough time for a shower before heading off to the hotel. But first, he had to call a florist...

oOoOo

At 6.30pm he was standing in front of the hotel. A porter held the door open for him and he went through, thanking him. He had undoubtedly been spoilt in life, but he had not forgotten good manners.
And he winced as he recognised the man supervising the staff looking after the customers, who was simply Bard, the hotel manager.
Pulling himself together, he smiled slightly when the man said noticed him and approached him.

-Mr. Durín? What a pleasant surprise! I am sorry, but I was not told you were coming! What can I do for you? Do you have any luggage? He asked jovially.

-No... in fact, I have come on behalf of Miss Bowman. The man straightened up, but he quickly regained his professionalism.

-Oh... are you Mr... Oakenshield? He asked in a small voice.

-Yes, and I would like it to stay that way...

-Of course, we will be discreet, I can assure you. Do you have a... party planned?

-Look, you obviously know Miss Bowman, as I do. So I guess there is no need to pretend, is there?

The director hesitated for a moment, then sighed discreetly.

-Of course you can. I suppose a bit of relaxation now and then cannot do anyone any harm.

Thorín nodded slightly without answering.

-Well, if you will follow me, I will take care of you, even though I know perfectly well that you do not need my help. But Miss Bowman is quite...

-Persuasive, isn’t it? Thorín continued in his place.

-Yes, you said the right word. She is pretty persuasive...

oOoOo

To be continued…

oOoOo

Chapter Text

Chapter 2

The rented costume was fine, but frankly, the cut was not what Thorín would have expected, especially for this kind of evening. The outfit, after being looked at from every angle by Bard, was quickly put aside in favour of one of much better quality.

After all, it was for a good cause and he did not doubt for a moment that he had the approval of the head of the agency for the unexpected expense...
Some time later, dressed to the nines, Thorín looked at his watch: 7.30pm. It had taken him almost an hour to get ready, because in addition to the dinner jacket, Bard had suggested that he try to do something with his hair...

oOoOo

Flashback...
After lightly brushing some imaginary dust off the dinner jacket. Bard had looked at Thorín with an embarrassed pout.

-I will call Gandalf, he is an excellent hairdresser, and he sometimes works miracles.    

Thorín frowned and the man coughed slightly, realising that he had just insulted a prestigious customer.

-Which means?

He knew he had to make an appointment, but it was not that urgent, was it?

-You certainly want to look perfect for this evening, don't you? Bard caught himself up as best he could.

Thorín smiled. The deference with which he was addressed was a little excessive for his taste, even if him status as a businessman, a well-known and wealthy one at that, implied this kind of behaviour.

Gandalf was then called in and after a few attempts at hairstyles, each more improbable than the last, including a braid on each side of his head, he finally gave up.

-I really do not see what I can do with this... He growled in a low voice, making a disdainful face, I have never seen hair resist me like that, it is simply inconceivable! 

He leaned on his side and rested his head on his fist, a look of deep reflection on his face, leaving Thorín seated on the armchair and behind him, a slightly nervous headmaster. Bard could see Gandalf's eyes crinkling, almost disappearing behind the rim of his curious pointed hat.

His reputation was well established, even if his eccentricity were sometimes at the limit of what he could bear. But as everyone who passed through his "fee fingers" came out of his salon more than delighted, he let him...

-But I think... He began.

He repositioned himself behind his "client", ran his fingers through his hair and picked up a pair of scissors, which made Thorín sit up straight...

-Do not move! Exclaimed Gandalf, when I am in charge, we just stand still and let it happen!

-But...

-No buts about it! When Gandalf says, we obey Gandalf!

Thorín closed his eyes... Slightly worried all the same...

-And there it is! Exclaimed the hairdresser after a few seconds, it is perfect! Absolutely perfect! 

Thorín opened one eye... then the other... then searched.

-What do you think? I am a genius, don’t you think?

-If you say so... He murmured.

In fact, he wondered what he had done...

There was nothing more or less than usual. Which comforted him, because when he had heard the sharp sound of scissors, he had still been a bit scared...

But there was nothing there.

-Yes, you are right, it is perfect! As usual, your magic has worked again, much to our delight.

-Of course! Everyone knows that the best hairdresser in New York is Gandalf. And Gandalf mean is me!

He then left the room muttering that it was unacceptable that his genius should go unrecognised...

-Well, now I know that plaits will never be one of my favourite hairstyles...

-It is true that it was rather daring. Replied Bard, agreeing with him.

-That is great. All I need now is the invitation.

-Here it is sir, replied the man immediately, taking it out of his pocket, and this envelope contains the address of the person you will be accompanying.

Thorín inclined his head slightly as he took it, then began to read aloud.

-Well... it is not very far from here, but I will take a taxi. However, I would like a limousine to meet me there, is that possible?

-Of course, I will take care of it personally. Mr. Oakenshield... Bard continued annoyed, are you planning to go and get this young lady with your hands... er... how shall I put it...

-No, cut in Thorín with a slight smile, I have got everything I need here. In fact, it should have arrived by now.

-Ah, well... Sighed the director, reassured.

But he suddenly wondered why he had got it into his head that the man in front of him would not have done things properly. They only knew each other as customers and managers, but every time a member of the Durín family came into the establishment, all the staff, without exception, had a smile on their faces. They were renowned for their kindness and generous tips... (1)

But would Mr. Oakenshield do the same?
Vanity was the opposite of Thorín's character, but when he looked at himself in the large mirror in the office, he was satisfied with what he saw. He then turned to the headmaster, who held out his hand and smiled broadly.

-I will leave you to it... it was a plaisir. Thorín said, squeezing him.

-But for me too, Mr. Oakenshield, I can assure you! Have an excellent evening and I hope I will soon have the pleasure of welcoming you on another visit... He quipped.

-To tell the truth, I would be very surprised. Your establishment is perfect, but I do not live very far away now.

-Ah... Said the man a little saddened, well in that case, perhaps our restaurant will have the honour of welcoming you?

-I do not see why not. It will be a bit of a change. And maybe I will come and get cordial from Gandalf too?

Thorín added, running his hand lightly over his hair.

-Yes, it is true that we have an outstanding hairdresser...

They looked at each other with a smile, then Thorín decided that the time had come for him to go, so he approached the reception desk where he picked up the box containing the unique purple rose (he did not know much about it, but the florist had strongly recommended this colour) delivered some time earlier. Then he headed for the door, which Bard quickly opened, before leaving the establishment. (2)

-This young lady is lucky; she will be in good company tonight. He murmured his tone cheerful as he watched him walk down the steps.

oOoOo

The hotel porter hailed a taxi and Thorín climbed in, giving the address. The driver was a rather talkative man in a strange hat who told him all about his life, but without bothering to involve him in the conversation, which suited him just fine.

-Y’re arrive! He exclaimed, moving towards him. That’ll be $8. I hope you've got the money, 'cause I could not get any! And if you need a taxi one of these days, ask Bofur, I know the town like the back of my hand!

Thorín thanked him, paid, and left. The house he was standing in front of was rather small and looked welcoming. But seeing a child's bike by the front door made him frown... Strange...
A single mother?
He grimaced as he thought about what he was going to be forced to endure. Between nappies, shopping, education, childhood diseases and all that went with it, the evening promised to be a bit boring. He chuckled to himself, thinking that he would almost prefer to hear all the details of how to grow carrots, even though he was not a fan of the vegetable.

Taking a deep breath, he plucked up his courage and rapped. Then the door swung open, and a little boy stepped out.

-Hello! Who are you?

Thorín felt stupid. Was he really going to have to tell this kid that he was going out with his mother tonight?

-Who's Frodon? Exclaimed a voice.

-A gentleman!

-Here I come! 

And just when Thorín was not sure what to expect, a charming young woman appeared. So he was smiling again. Even if it was his job to be considerate, it was much easier to be so with a woman who was exactly his type.

-Miss Baggins? He asked as he read the name on the invitation card.

For a moment, the young woman burst out laughing, leaving him a little bewildered...

-What is going on, darling? Exclaimed a male voice.

Thorín gasped slightly. What did that mean? There was a man in the family? But then, why have recourse to his services? Was Bowman making fun of him?

She was not the type. Or maybe he had come to the wrong address...

-Are you from the Arkenstone Agency? Asked the pretty blonde.

-Yes, I am. He replied, at once disconcerted and reassured.

He had always had a questionable sense of direction, but at least the taxi had brought him to the right address.

-Darling? Insisted the male voice. Who is it?

-It is just Bilbo's date who is just arrived! She exclaimed, laughing even harder.

oOoOo

Thorín frowned. Bilbo? But what parent could give their daughter a name like that?
But on reflection, Thorín laughed inwardly. Between his brother called Frerín, her sister Dís and their father Thraín, the Durín's were no better, and after clearing him throat a little, the young woman stopped laughing.

-I am sorry... but I was not expecting to see someone like you... She apologised.

-What do you mean? He asked, a little mortified.

What was she talking about when she said, "someone like you"? He was not good enough?
Or Bowman had been fooled too and the dinner jacket was too much. He sighed, thinking that it must just be an evening of lab rats. And one often imagined them to be scruffy, with stringy hair, badly buttoned white coats, spending their time at work and sometimes sleeping on an uncomfortable sofa.

Ah... stereotypes still had a long way to go...

-No! No, do not get me wrong, you are absolutely perfect! It is just that...

-Is there a problem? Interrupted a man, undoubtedly the one he had heard before.

-Drogo, this is...

-Thorín Oakenshield. Replied the latter, holding out his hand.

-He is the person who has to accompany Bilbo... She continued smiling.

-Mummy, he is a gentleman! Exclaimed the boy laughing.

Well done, kid, you have got good eyes! Thorín thought.

-Go inside and get ready for the night, I will be right there!

-But Mum!

-Frodon, please listen to me. I will be there in a little while, okay?

She smiles as she watched her son grumble and leave, then she turned back to Thorín.

-I am sorry, I have not introduced myself, my name is Primula Baggins and here’s Drogo, my husband, and the little man who opened the door for you is Frodon, our son.

-Pleased to meet you, madam... sir... and I am sorry to introduce myself in this way, but I was told to come here...

-There is definitely been a misunderstanding. I thought I had said that you were to meet Bilbo at New York University, where the ceremony is taking place.

-Yes, I was not aware of that...

-Do you know where she is? She asked.

-No, but anyway... He began.

-I will come with you! She cut in. As your taxi left...

-That will not be necessary, as a car should be here any minute...

-Oh dear... I am sorry I did not explain myself more clearly. It would have saved you this unnecessary expense...

Thorín wondered if she knew that this service had been included and that she had actually paid for it, and a few seconds later, the sound of a powerful engine coming to a halt behind him made him turn around.

-Well... my means of transport has just arrived, so I will be off. I hope you have a nice evening.

-Yes, to you too...

oOoOo

Still standing on the porch in front of the front door, Drogo turned to his wife, a big smile on his face.

-I do not know what is going to happen, but I would love to be there!

-I would love to take a ride in that limousine, it must be so comfortable... Primula sighed enviously.

-Do not dream, we will never be able to fit an ocean liner like that in the garage! Laughed Drogo.

-You are right. But why did the agency send a man? It is strange all the same! She continued.

-What I am wondering is how he will react when he sees the person he will be spending the evening with...

-Yes... but he is not bad.

-What? Exclaimed Drogo.

-But he does not stand a chance with me, it is you I am in love with... Prim replied, kissing him.

-I would still love to see it!

-Yes, me too... She added, smiling frankly.

oOoOo

Standing beside the limousine, he looked at the elegant man walking towards him. Alone...

-Hello sir, my name is Nori. Shall we wait a little? He asked.

-No, the person I was supposed to bring is already here. Thorín replied as he sat down.

-Ah...

Nori closed the door and made a doubtful face as he walked around the car, before sitting behind the wheel. In his opinion, this person was going to regret having left before. Starting off smoothly, he took to the road. As he was used to driving people of rather high status, he remained silent throughout the journey, leaving his customer in peace...

oOoOo

He may have come from a wealthy family, but in the Durín family, money was spent wisely, yet Thorín was not averse to the comfort and luxury of such a vehicle. It must be said that it was not for everyone to be able to hire this kind of long-distance car, even if he was not the one paying for it.
Watching the streets go by, he enjoyed the silence that reigned inside the car, a prelude to an evening that was certainly not to be. Lost in his thoughts, he did not notice that the car had stopped,

-Sir, you are arrived...

Thorín snapped out of his reverie and looked at Nori, who had opened the door for him. He was indeed standing in front of New York University, which for the occasion had been decked out with a banner announcing the demonstration.
He then got out of the car, not forgetting to take his little box.

-Does your service end now? Do I need a taxi to get home?

-There is no need, Mr. Bard has hired my services for the whole evening.

-Well then, I will leave you to it.

-I wish you a good evening, sir.

-Thanks Nori, see you later.

Thorín made his way towards the entrance, suddenly wondering how he would recognise the young woman he was to accompany.
He climbed the few steps that led to a gigantic hall and approached a man sitting behind a small table with a large notebook on it.

-Good evening sir, you are...?

-Good evening. I am Thorín Oakenshield. Can you tell me if Miss Baggins is here yet, please?

The man looked at him appreciatively and turned to the notebook, quickly going through the list.

-Yes, that person is already here. You can go in now.

That is simply great! What is more, she did not even wait for me. Thorín thought with a grimace.
He thanked the man with a nod and entered the room in his turn.

-Could there have been a mistake? The clerk asked himself, looking twice at the register. 

oOoOo

With a glass in his hand, Thorín had been looking for his date for a good quarter of an hour, but nowhere was there a young woman alone. He was beginning to despair when a man climbed onto a platform at the back of the room.

-Ladies and gentlemen, I am delighted to welcome you here today to reward the best of the best! But first, allow me to say how honoured I feel...

Thorín quickly gave up, he had to be next to someone who was going to receive an award and that was not looking good...

If he did not, Bowman would not be happy with him and there was no way this mishap would tarnish his reputation.

-... and that is how I describe one of our own, who revolutionised agriculture by finding the most effective way of...

And blah blah blah...

-... so please put your hands together for our dear Doctor Bilbo Baggins!

One person climbed the steps, shook hands with the presenter and turned to face the crowd. Thorín, who had raised his glass to his mouth, swallowed hard.
There was no need to look, it was there to be found...

oOoOo

To be continued…

well... maybe...

oOoOo

Chapter Text

Chapitre 3

Bowman ne lui avait jamais fait ça auparavant !
Pourquoi avait-elle fait appel à ses services ? Elle n'avait pas besoin d'un homme pour ce soir, elle avait besoin d'une femme !

Qu'allait-il faire maintenant ?
Comment se présenter à un homme avec qui on est censé passer la soirée ?
Et surtout, qu'allait-il faire de la fleur ? Il n'allait pas la donner à un homme !

Thorín rit soudain, attirant les regards meurtriers de ses voisins...
Mais il n'y prêta aucune attention. Il avait juste pensé qu'il avait eu de la chance de ne pas avoir décidé de se présenter avec quelque chose de plus imposant, comme un bouquet...
Il se rendit soudain compte que la salle était devenue silencieuse et se retourna vers la scène.

Son cavalier avait terminé son discours et attendait visiblement quelque chose...
...Qui n'est pas venu...
Puis soudain une voix se fit entendre.

-Docteur Baggins, qu'avez-vous prévu de faire pour que l'ADN des plantes transmette des informations à ses descendants, afin qu'eux aussi puissent bénéficier des gènes protecteurs ?
Il vit alors l'homme sourire, avant de se lancer dans des explications plutôt enthousiastes. Thorín pouvait dire, sans trop se vanter, qu'il était intelligent, mais cette fois, il était complètement dépassé. Pour lui, l'agriculture se limitait aux fruits et légumes de son assiette...

À partir de ce moment-là, de nombreuses questions furent posées et répondues par le célèbre Bilbo Baggins.
Et Thorín n'en revenait toujours pas. 

Un homme. Il devait passer toute la soirée en compagnie d'un homme !
Alors pourquoi lui plutôt qu'une femme ?
Ce n'est pas que ça le dérangeait beaucoup, mais quand même...

Il sortit de sa poche la carte d'invitation et la relut attentivement. Elle portait le texte suivant : « Docteur B. Baggins ». Le « B » signifiait donc Bilbo. L'explication la plus plausible était que la femme chez qui il s'était rendu avait parlé d'un Bilbo à l'agence.

Et comme son patron, il pensait, à tort sans doute, que les femmes ayant plus de mal à formuler ce genre de demande de leur propre chef, Bowman avait fait appel à lui pour le service qu’elle avait cru être destiné à une amie, même si le prénom n’était pas courant. Quant aux hommes, ils n’avaient aucun scrupule à demander une escorte pour se pavaner avec une jolie femme à leur bras. Et en entendant le nom, il avait fini par mettre cela sur le compte d’une excentricité des parents.

Il comprenait pourquoi la femme avait éclaté de rire, tout comme le garçon qui s'était exclamé qu'il était un « gentleman » !

Alors il l'a pris dans sa foulée et a attendu son... comment était-il censé l'appeler, de toute façon ?

De toute façon, il allait attendre qu'il ait fini son discours.
Après... enfin, après, il déciderait... 

oOoOo

Bilbo Baggins, apart from being a little embarrassed by the size of his prize, was quite happy with his evening. He had managed to read his little speech without a hitch and apparently he had enjoyed it, as several people had asked him some rather interesting questions.

In fact, someone had asked him a rather pertinent question and now that he thought about it, the answer needed to be a little more in-depth...
He straightened his chest and made his way towards the buffet, waving at the people who stopped him as he went. The food smelled delicious, and he was as hungry as a wolf! (1)

oOoOo

Thorín had not taken his eyes off his from the moment he stepped down from the podium until he saw him walking towards the buffet. Looking at the rose in his hand, he discreetly cut off the stem before putting it in his buttonhole, then went to join him to get to know him.

There was no question of him not doing what he was paid to do. After all, he had a professional conscience.
Besides, this man made a strange impression on him...
It was something strange and as he was curious, he had to satisfy his curiosity...

oOoOo

Bilbo was happy.

To say otherwise would be a lie, he had won the prize he had expected. In fact, how could it have been otherwise?
He was the best, even the banner at the entrance to the university said so! 

Well, no, she was not talking about him alone, but she did say that this was a meeting that rewarded the best of the best, did not she?
And what he was holding in his hand proved it, he was...

But frankly, did they need to do something so imposing?
Because what was he going to do with it now?
Where could he put it while he helped himself?

-Do you need help? He heard behind him.

He then turned to see whether or not he could entrust his reward to the person who had so kindly offered to help him...
And he found himself face to face with a dinner jacket. After raising his head until his neck was almost twisted (for God's sake, why was this guy so tall?) he fell head over heels into the intense blue gaze staring back at him, which ended up making him a little uncomfortable...

-I beg your pardon? He managed to get out.

And the next thing he knew, he was mentally calling himself an idiot. He had heard perfectly well, so why had he said such an enormous thing?

-I was just asking if you needed any help!

-Er...

oOoOo

Exactly what Thorín thought about big heads. They were full, but as soon as you had to have a "normal" conversation, it was more difficult...
He looked at his date for the evening in detail and found him to be not too bad looking. He was rather short compared to him and slightly overweight.

But if this could almost go unnoticed, a trained eye like his did not deceive him in the least. This man must have liked to eat...
And as he was still waiting for an answer, he assumed he would have to repeat his question.

-Would you like me to hold your reward while you help yourself? He asked again.

oOoOo

Since when did a simple question like that pose a problem for him?

And how was it even possible to have such a deep, sexy voice?

And why did he feel so stupid?
... And why did he think that anyway?
Perhaps because the man now had a smile plastered on his face?

-I do not mind... but please be careful! He managed to say in a voice a little too high-pitched for his liking.

Thorín preciously took the translucent plate and waited patiently for him to help himself. When he saw the amount of food the little man had put on his plate, he thought to himself that he had seen right through him.

Yes, he liked to eat.
And that made him smile. For once he was not going out with a woman who paid attention to what she ate, while at the same time pointing out him dream figure, and that made a change.

Yes, in the end, he liked not being subjected to the sparrow-like "pecking" of these ladies, even if he did not pay too much attention to it anymore. His date turned round and held out his hand.

-Thank you... I will get my property back now.

Thorín smiled again.

-Excuse me, but in the end, I would rather not...

-What is that? Squealed Bilbo, but...

-Do not worry, I will return your reward... but before I do, I would like to be sure of one thing, you are all right Bilbo Baggins?

-Dr Baggins... a doctor of agronomy, that is, and you are?

-Oh sorry! I have not introduced myself, I am Thorín Oakenshield...

-Pleased to meet you, Mr. Oakenshield.

-...and I am your date for the evening!

Thorín congratulated himself on keeping the trophy in his hand, because if he had not, there was a good chance it would have landed next to the plate.

On the floor...

oOoOo

After a long moment of silence, Thorín made a discreet gesture to a waiter, letting him know that there had been a small incident.
And the doctor was still staring at him, his mouth half-open.
It even seemed to Thorín that he was going to run out of air if he did not start breathing quickly.

-Doctor Baggins, it is not very serious, you know, a plate falling can happen.

He knew perfectly well that it was not at all because of this that his opposite number remained silent. The fact that he had introduced himself as his date had apparently upset him.

-Er... I am not sure I understood you correctly, you are... what? Finally said Bilbo.

-Your date for the evening. Perhaps you did not know?

-Did you know? But... I thought that... well, it is not that you are not.... but still, you are...

The sentence not very clear brought another smile to Thorín's face, he liked this man after all. Even though he had just received a high distinction for research that he had understood absolutely nothing about, he still had the ability to react normally.
Because frankly, what kind of man would not have that reaction when he found out he was going to have to spend the whole evening in the company of someone wearing a dinner jacket instead of an evening dress?

-... I am...?

-You are... a man! Bilbo finally exclaimed.

-Yes, I thank you for noticing and it is a fact that, I am a man.

-But Prim told me that she would speak to the best escort agency in the area, even though I disagreed and... and obviously, she was wrong... He grumbled.

-Prim... and that is...?

-Primula, my cousin! Oh, she will hear me now, that one... ever since she got married, she has been desperate for everyone around her to do the same, even if they tell her otherwise! What is more, you are a man and... well, you know what I mean...

-Ah... you are probably talking about the young woman I went to earlier, thinking I would find you there... Thorín continued without picking up on the remark.

Even if the end of the sentence had made him feel a little bit sad.

Another strange reaction...

-I am sorry, but I thought it would be better to go to this meeting on my own. I told her what I was going to do, and I told her I do not know how many times not to use your agency, but obviously she did not listen to me...

-Well, I am sorry to hear it so late too, but now that I am here, I am going to honour my contract anyway.

Thorín decided that even though Bowman had played a funny trick on him, and he hoped it was not intentional on her part, he would make sure the evening went well. However, the look on the researcher's face as he stood up straight as a post was not very encouraging...

-But... you do not have to stay with me all evening, do you?

-Of course you can! I am at your service for the duration of the evening, so make the most of it!

-Enjoy it? Exclaimed Bilbo in a high-pitched voice, but what does that mean?

-That I am here to satisfy your every wish... Thorín replied.

oOoOo

If there was someone lucky enough not to be here tonight, that was Primula, because otherwise she would certainly have been entitled to the nicest remonstrance she had ever heard! As for his traitorous cousin Drogo, he probably had not even dared to tell her to stop interfering in other people's lives.

Ah, family! If we could no longer count on them...
Bilbo did not know where to put himself...

He had never been so embarrassed in his life!
If he had understood correctly and there was no doubt about it, his hearing was perfect thank you very much, he was looking at someone who was prepared to do whatever he wanted?
Like some kind of gigolo?
But how far did this kind of service go?

That did not mean he was interested, he did not really feel attracted to his own kind, but whatever.
Maybe he could use the opportunity to ask him things he would not normally think of doing...

oOoOo

Thorín had sensed the sudden change in his dinner companion's attitude when he told him he would satisfy his every whim.
But after all, what was he afraid of?

The man was a researcher and given his reaction, even if he was jumping to conclusions a little too quickly, it was safe to say that he was not attracted to him. Physically speaking, of course.

And for once it would end with a solid handshake instead of an attempted seduction, or even a stolen kiss, and well, he was not disappointed.
He then handed the trophy to its owner, turned to the sideboard, and filled another plate. Then, with a big smile, he took the plate back from Bilbo.

-There you are. You can eat in peace; I assure you she will be absolutely safe with me! He declared, pointing with his chin at the reward.

oOoOo

Yes, in the end, he was likely to spend a pleasant evening in this man's company, even if he had never been put off by the company of other researchers. After all, they had the same kind of conversation and the same interests.

-There is something I have always wanted to try, but I have never got the hang of it... Bilbo said as he absent-mindedly poked his fork into the plate.

It was Thorín's turn to swallow with difficulty. He suddenly wondered if he had not pushed things a bit too far by saying he was there to satisfy his every whim. Because frankly, he did have his limits...

-I am listening. He replied, a touch of anxiety in his voice.

Bilbo looked down.

-Billiards...

-I beg your pardon? Thorín wondered.

-I have never played billiards. He repeated a little louder.

After all, given the situation he was in, he could not be any more ridiculous than he is at the moment...

oOoOo

Thorín almost wanted to take him in his arms and give him a big hug.
The man who had just received an award for excellence in agricultural research had never taken the time to relax and play?

Well, it is true that billiards was not a particularly entertaining game, in fact it required a certain amount of concentration. But given his job, it should not be too difficult for him.
He smiled as he imagined himself crouching down, watching vegetables grow, or lying in the hay after running barefoot through the fields. (2)

And l was willing to bet that he had learnt to drive a tractor before he could even walk! But billiards...
To think that in his father's house, there was an entire room dedicated to this game. And even at home, in his loft, he had one delivered.
Well, it is true that playing alone, frankly, was not the most pleasant thing.

Il réfléchit quelques secondes, hésitant.
Pouvait-il se permettre de le ramener chez lui ?
Mais même s'il aimait bien le petit homme, le contrat signé entre lui et l'Agence Arkenstone était très clair à ce sujet. Il devait lui tenir compagnie et faire la conversation. Rien de plus.

Il a donc décidé de ne pas le faire.

-Tu dois rester ici tout en soie ? demanda-t-il à Bilbo.

-Que veux-tu dire?

-Si j'ai bien compris, tu veux jouer au billard. Je te demande donc si tu dois rester ici toute la soirée, ou si tu peux t'échapper...

oOoOo

Bilbo se mit à réfléchir rapidement. Peut-être l'agence s'était-elle trompée de sexe en choisissant la personne qui devait l'accompagner, mais au final, ce n'était pas une mauvaise chose.
Il n'aurait certainement jamais osé demander à une femme de l'accompagner dans une salle de billard...

Mais il n’aurait jamais pensé à le jouer alors qu’il était à une cérémonie de remise de prix !

Mais ici, en compagnie d'un homme, c'était tout à fait normal, n'est-ce pas ?
En tout cas, il espérait que cela rendrait la situation normale...

-Je pense que je peux m'échapper sans problème. De toute façon, personne ne se rendra compte que je suis parti. Je suis sûr qu'ils réfléchissent déjà à comment être meilleurs que moi...

Voyant le regard désillusionné de son cavalier, Thorín se retint à nouveau de le serrer dans ses bras.

Il pensait certainement à des choses étranges à propos de cet homme... 

oOoOo

À suivre…

oOoOo

oOoOo

A few brief explanations:
(1) It is a French expression meaning "I am very hungry". I have not found an equivalent in English...
(2) Never run barefoot in the fields, believe me, it is a terrible idea! Or you would have to have hobbit feet.