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“Adventure you say?” Bilbo hummed around his pipe. “How long might this take? And now that I think on it, I shan’t be going anywhere without full disclosure - the objective of the adventure, those coming along, the one in charge, what the roles are, how things are to be divided... there are lots of points...” he looked up at Gandalf, the deceptively frail looking wizard who was leaning heavily on his staff. Bilbo remembered him from his days as a faunt.
“Well I can’t really say much by most of your questions as it really isn’t my place, however I can estimate that you will be gone for a year, perhaps more, perhaps less. No shorter than the first snows of next year, no longer than forever.” The wizard nodded, satisfied with his explanation and Bilbo gave him a critical once over.
“You mean to say I may die.” Gandalf’s eyes widened, shocked at the assumption but he did not deny it. “Gandalf, I may have been in awe of you as a faunt but these days I have something we mortal folk call responsibilities. I have an estate to run, people to manage, I cannot go gallivanting across the lands for a year or forever,” he rolled his eyes. “Now I am quite happy for you to come for dinner one night this week, though, not tomorrow. I have plans tomorrow evening.” Gandalf regarded him long and hard before he nodded.
“Very well, Thursday in time for supper. I do hope you lay on a good spread, I expect I will be famished! Good morning, Master Baggins!” he crowed, ever so jolly, and Bilbo rolled his eyes, watching the strange man wander on down the lane.
The day went on from that point as it would any other. Bilbo ran errands, went about his business and had meetings with many until finally, just as he was about to head home, he caught sight of the Green Dragon and thought, why ever not?
“You don’t want to go in there, Master Baggins!” a familiar voice called and he turned to see the Proudfoot matriarch walking towards him looking positively ruffled. He smiled at her politely and as she came to a stop, he caught the slight pinking in her cheeks. “That smile’s going to get you into trouble one of these days, my boy!” she chuckled and he winked.
“I do hope so, madam,” his sigh was very put upon. “Now, why should I not wish to go to the pub before home?”
“There be strange folk passing through Hobbiton!” she said in a not-so hushed tone that had him arching an eyebrow. “Dwarrows!” she hissed. “Twelve of them! All manner of hair shapes and beard lengths - beards!” she emphasised.
“Madam thank you for the warning, but I should like to see for myself who would pass through our sleepy little town. You have a good evening now and if you would tell Mylen I would see him in the morrow, I would be most grateful,” his smirk made her flush anew and he laughed inwardly.
“Master Baggins, you are positively wicked!” she giggled. “But I shall tell my wayward neighbour. You have a good evening also, Master Baggins,” she gave a dainty curtsey and left in a flurry of skirts and petticoats.
“Master Proudfoot sees you eyeing his wife up there’ll be trouble, Master Baggins,” a voice said as he turned to the door of the Green Dragon and he shot a young hobbit lass, cleaning out a tankard, an innocent smile as he approached. She giggled as she took the arm he held out for her before leading them both inside.
“What Master Proudfoot doesn’t know..” he drawled. “Besides, my ledger is packed, Madam Proudfoot strikes me as the needing type.”
“Far too high maintenance then,” the hobbit he was escorting teased and he laughed.
“Not at all!” he called as she wandered off towards the bar opening while he stepped up to it, waiting for her to reach him again. “There are instances where you want hand holding, sweet nothings and I love yous... and then there are...” he trailed off, giving the girl a deliberate once over that made her flush prettily. “Madam Proudfoot strikes me as the former and I have a far greater interest in the latter.”
“You mind your talking there, Master Baggins,” an older hobbit came up behind the girl but she seemed genuinely amused by the exchange. “My Lyla is promised to another, you mind your teasing, you hear me?”
“While I congratulate you on your engagement Lyla,” his sigh was once again put upon. “I cannot help but be somewhat bitter we were never able to catch an evening or two.” The lass laughed and curtseyed before walking over to serve a waiting customer. “I wouldn’t have propositioned her, Bella, I swear it. She’s far too kind hearted for my sort.”
“You sell yourself short, Master Baggins,” Bella, Lyla’s mother, leaned on the bar to talk to him. “That is to say, your heart is kind enough for everything you need it to be, you’re certainly not a hobbit to want for anything nor one to be unnecessarily rude or cruel. And you are always courteous. Your ways are fine for the unattached or unscrupulous,” she winked at him, making him laugh. “But my Lyla is in love and you know yourself you would never come between a hobbit and her love.”
“Too true, Madam, too true.”
“Hey now,” she leaned over to whisper. “You’ve seen me in my smalls and less, Master... Baggins. You should address me accordingly.” She pulled back and he was smirking - nothing obvious, just a light smirk with a knowing gaze that followed the line of her neck until skin met dress fabric.
“Well then pet,” he murmured. “Allow me to order a half an ale from your very accommodating self.” She chuckled through her flush and he handed over the coin payment. “Are you quite certain you wouldn’t like to revisit my smial? For old times sake?” he asked wistfully, making her laugh.
“I am quite content with my memories, but thank you for asking.” She curtseyed again and moved to another customer, leaving him to turn around on his barstool and observe the thrumming bar. Hobbits were dancing around, laughing, chatting in large groups as they drank their ales. To the more trained eye he caught a number of couples trying to be discreet in a public place but he just shook his head, chuckling.
“Master Baggins,” a soft voice spoke up and he turned to see Mylen Bracegirdle stood fidgeting while trying to make it seem like he wasn’t. Bilbo took a swig of ale and regarded the lad, eyebrow raised.
“Mylen,” he spoke. “I was under the impression we were to meet tomorrow evening...” the lad bit his lip and now looked nervous.
“We were, Master Baggins, we were. However... there has been a development and I will be unable to continue our meetings.”
“I would be remiss if I did not enquire as to why, Mylen, but I will not stop you from leaving...” he saw the lad’s eyes flicker to a point over Bilbo’s shoulder and rather deliberately, Bilbo turned his stool so he could see. “Ah,” he turned back to Mylen, who was flushed at this point. “And you chose to speak of this in such a public place because...?”
“He ain’t answerable to you anymore, Baggins,” a voice snapped and the pub went deathly silent.
“No,” Bilbo said, not looking away from Mylan’s mortified face. “I don’t suppose he is. However, I would have an answer.” It wasn’t worded or toned as a request and Mylan looked almost sick. “I’ll have the Thain draw up the contract details then, shall I?” Mylan frowned, confused.
“Ain’t no contract-” gasps were heard around the pub and more than a few hobbits were glaring at the outspoken individual.
“I don’t know how they do it in Michel Delving, but in Hobbiton, we take care of our young ones,” Mylan was blushing and looking at the floor. “I’m not sure what he promised you, Mylan, but you are released from my service. However, should you wish to join this individual, you will go through the Thain or not at all. Turn around.” Mylan looked like he believed he had made the worst mistake in the world but no one batted an eye as Bilbo unclasped a bead from Mylan’s hairline. “And you, Mister Brandville, would do well to remember that the Thain lives in Hobbiton, but my Grandfather holds court over all The Shire.” He downed the last of his ale and set the empty tankard on the bar before getting down from his stool. “Do not touch Mylan Bracegirdle, by order of the Thain, until you have leave to contractually bind this agreement. Jeremiah, would you escort Mylan home as it is on your way?” he saw the hobbit step up just behind Mylan nod before the pair left.
“You ain’t got no right-”
“Disturber of the peace!” someone shouted and the Michel Delving hobbit paled. Bilbo’s smile was serene.
“Young thief!” another shouted and soon the foreign hobbit was driven out as the Took’s guard escorted him away. Seconds after the Brandville hobbit was gone, conversation restarted and music played on.
“Master Baggins, sir,” he looked down to see a faunt, barely nine or ten, curtseying in front of him.
“Well hello there,” Bilbo grinned down at her. “What’re you doing up this late little madam?” the faunt giggled, blushing adorably.
“We was just leaving, Master Baggins,” the faunt’s mother reached down to pick her child up and Bilbo smiled.
“Madam Cherry, wonderful to see you again. Your daughter is beautiful, just like her mother,” he bopped the faunt on her nose and she giggled brightly. Her mother blushed but continued to smile as her husband stepped up to their side. The hobbit held out a hand to Bilbo, a beaming smile on his face.
“Well met, Master Baggins!”
“Well met indeed Hamfast!” Bilbo patted the hobbit on the arm with his free hand. “I didn’t see you around there otherwise I’d have asked to join you!”
“Another time perhaps, we’ve got to be going, Rosie’s about ready for bed,” he chuckled and leaned in to speak in low tones. “Those dwarves who are staying here were a touch confused by all the commotion with Brandville and Mylan. I thought you may want to know is all.” Bilbo thanked him.
“Have a pleasant evening Master Baggins,” Cherry, still blushing, curtseyed and Hamfast bowed before they left the pub.
Bilbo turned around to the bar and saw Lyla looking at him. He raised an eyebrow and she gestured to the far back of the pub usually reserved for large parties and celebrations. He made a circle with his forefinger and made his way over.
“Good evening,” he spoke as he saw the dwarves he had been hearing about sat around the large table. Twelve of them, if he was counting correctly. “Forgive the commotion before, an unfortunate occurrence that doesn’t tend to happen in the open but,” he sighed. “When needs must.”
“Lad, you’ve no cause to explain to us,” an elder dwarf spoke. His hair was white and beard long and straight, shaped like a scoop or all things. His robes were a deep red and spoke of status and nobility.
“I know,” Bilbo smiled. “But it wouldn’t do to have guests of the Shire, such as you all are, believe that things happen as they did tonight, every day. We know how to maintain a sense of propriety here in Hobbiton - and indeed, most of the Shire. As with every race however, there are those who do not adhere to the norms and go... rogue, is the only way I can explain it.”
“You explained much and nothing,” another dwarf spoke up. His hair was elaborately styled into three peaks, his eyebrows and beard were braided in a variety of ways it was really quite extraordinary to Bilbo.
“Propriety,” Bilbo grinned. “One cannot very well be expected to keep personal affairs personal if they go airing it in the local pub, can they?” he laughed. “No...” he sighed, thinking back to what happened. “I regret what happened this evening, more so now that I understand you all bore witness.”
“What did happen?” a young dwarf asked. He was slighter than the others, but still built. His hair wasn’t braided and his beard was more lengthy stubble; he had a bow on his back but Bilbo spied knifes inside the arms of his coat. He was, in a sense, a beauty, and Bilbo’s smile sharpened a touch.
“I released someone from my service who no longer wished to be there,” he said easily and they all blinked at him.
“You take slaves?” the white haired dwarf asked, aghast and Bilbo’s frown should have been answer enough.
“Do we look like a place that would permit slavery, Master Dwarf?” he asked curtly. “To answer you outright, however, no, I do not take slaves.” Bilbo held a hand out behind him to the low grumbles he heard across the pub. The grumbles died down quickly but the music didn’t start back up straight away. “Drinks,” he said suddenly and the mother/daughter barmaid paid appeared, carrying three pint tankards in each hand before setting them out in the middle of the table. “Please accept these as an apology for the early disruption. I hope you enjoy the rest of your stay within the borders of our home.” his smile was diplomatic and they all knew it. “Lyla, if the wizard returns tonight,” he said as he walked away from the dwarves. “Please tell him my evening is now free for tomorrow. He waited for her nod and left a bag of coin on the bar before leaving amidst many shouts of farewell, more than a few bows and curtseys. He was chuckling as he crossed the lantern lit picnic area outside the pub. He waved to a few hobbits that had been drinking outside and began his walk home.
“Master Baggins,” he glanced to his left at the crossroads. “I was just on my way to Bag-End to speak with you...”
“Primula,” he smiled. “I am sorry my dear, it quite slipped my mind that I had you for company this evening. I am afraid I cannot host you tonight - my mind is much askew and I have just released a dear friend from my service. I would no doubt cause more harm than good should I allow you in.” The hobbit lass looked devastated and Bilbo tipped her head up with a finger beneath her chin, smiling when their eyes met. “I would see you hale rather than hurt by my hand. Go to Drogo, he will understand.” She bit her lip but nodded, curtseying before rushing back down the lane.
“So it is a service,” a voice said and Bilbo turned to see the young dwarf from the pub. His eyes were dancing. “My apologies, I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, I wanted to speak more with you.”
“Not meaning to does not excuse the act, Master Dwarf,” Bilbo said pointedly. “I am suddenly very tired and will be heading home now. Good evening,” he inclined his head and continued to walk towards Bag-End.
“We don’t have anything like that, you see, I mean,” the dwarf jogged to catch up with him and ended up walking along side him. “Between our adolescent years and adulthood, we are given leave to experiment, if you catch my meaning,” he smirked at Bilbo, who rolled his eyes, lips twitching.
“I dare say it would be difficult to not catch your meaning, young one,” he drawled.
“I’m an adult,” the dwarf stressed.
“And you are doing a remarkable job of convincing me of that fact,” Bilbo laughed while the dwarf huffed.
“Anyway, we aren’t given specific... tutors, in that area, but we aren’t bound by propriety. It is a time for dwarrows to find themselves in that sense. Anything after should be met with the respect for the act and the meaning behind it.”
“You should always respect your partner, young one, whether you are mentally able to comprehend it or not. For without your partner, all you have is your hand,” he made a crude gesture that made the dwarf laugh and blush simultaneously.
“Your service then,” the dwarf pressed as they reached the end of Bagshot row.
“My services, such as they are, are confidential... and quite varied,” Bilbo said pointedly.
“I don’t want names, dates or times, they’re useless to me personally,” the dwarf rolled his eyes. “I’m just curious about your culture. From the outside, you’re the gentlest, most peaceful beings I’ve ever met, but every now and then I hear a joke that would make my ma blush, or I hear talk of beddings and activities and I’m struck! I know every culture has their more carnal interests but I did not expect hobbits to be so...”
“Passionate?” Bilbo’s lips twitched.
“Dirty minded!” the dwarf hissed in a hushed whisper. Bilbo had no such reservations however and he laughed out loud.
“I’ve been called much in my time, young one, and dirty minded was most certainly one of them, but never did it come from lips so innocent,” he chuckled as another flush made it’s way across the dwarf’s cheeks.
“Not so innocent,” he probably meant it not to sound as petulant as it did so Bilbo bit his lip to hold in the laugh.
“Forgive me,” he smiled when it was clear his humour was grating on the young dwarf. “You may indeed be an adult in your culture and you may have experienced much, but I am somewhat acquainted with certain mannerisms that seem to be universal across all races and you, young one, do not strike me as terribly experienced, in the ways of the body.” More blushing - Yavanna this being was adorable! “Should I continue speaking, would your blush travel down your neck to other regions?” he smirked as finally, they reached his garden fence. “You are quite beautiful and I would hope to imagine that a full body flush could be a result of my gentle teasing.” More , blushing and he had to force himself not to laugh delightedly. “As you no doubt heard me say to dear Primula, I am not fit for company this night, but I thank you, young one, for the escort. you have been adorable and were this night a different one, I might invite you in...” he leaned forward to have his lips hover barely an inch from the dwarf’s. “And make you scream over and over until all you could think, all you could breath, was my name...” He pulled back and saw the dwarf’s eyes impossibly wide. “If you follow this road back around, it is a longer route and it will give you time to calm yourself,” he winked and stepped into his garden, shutting the gate behind him with a pointed click.
“Kíli,” the dwarf stuttered, barely whispering, but Bilbo’s sharp ears caught it.
“Pardon?” his eyebrow arched and the dwarf seemed to be barely forcing himself to not shake. It wasn’t working on his hands and they fisted in the fabric of his coat.
“My name,” the dwarf breathed. “Is Kíli, Son of Vili...” he bowed his head slowly. “At your service.”
The smile that spread on Bilbo’s face was slow, deliberately so.
“Bilbo Baggins,” he introduced myself, inclining his head. “At yours.”
“I-” Kíli looked up at Bilbo, his eyes wide and Bilbo’s brow creased. “I don’t-” the dwarf cut himself off again.
“Tell me, young one,” Bilbo prompted. Kíli squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head, seemingly trying to clear it. he stumbled when he tried to put one foot in front of the other and Bilbo’s eyes widened. “Oh my,” he breathed. “The first rule of such experiences, be they dwarf or hobbit or even elf or man - you must never feel the need to lie about your history, and you must never over stretch yourself until you know what that entails.”
“I have-” Kíli was breathing deeply until eventually, he was able to stand up straight. He was still shaking slightly but Bilbo knew it was the dwarf attempting to repress himself more than any real issue. “I have had experiences prior,” he said defensively.
“That is the truth,” Bilbo’s frown became more pronounced. “But it is not the whole truth, speak it, young one, I will not judge - I would rather see you safe in your bed tonight without having pulled a muscle,” his tone was dry and aimed to amuse. The bark of laugh from Kíli told him he’d achieved his goal.
“I have experiences,” Kíli stressed. “They were just not very fulfilling,” he finally admitted. “I am not dwarvish enough for most dwarrows,” he sighed. “And it has been drilled home to me - my beard barely exists, my cheekbones are too high, frame too slight - the only thing stopping folk from teasing me every day is probably the one reason I have had the experiences I’ve had...”
“You are of Durin’s line,” Bilbo mused and Kíli’s eyes widened. “I am the Grandson of the Thain, young one, who is to outsiders, a King. I am obligated to educate myself on the surrounding lands.” He reached out to run his fingers through a stray strand of Kíli’s hair. “It is sad that they used you like that, for them and for you - them because they will learn to regret what it is to insult a royal heir in such a manner, and for you because you deserve to have your experiences be full and pleasurable.”
“Just from hearing you speak before,” Kíli breathed. “I can honestly say I have never felt such a rushing feeling. Your words were scandalous and I stumbled because...” he blushed again. “I couldn’t walk with a branch in my pants.” Bilbo’s laugh rang out and the hobbit stepped up to the wall, reaching over to grasp Kíli’s coat, pulling him in close. The dwarf gasped as he was pushed against the wall - or pulled, as it were.
“I would not see you stumble and fall all the way back to the Green Dragon, but I will not invite you inside this night. My mind is still full of the night’s goings on, you understand, but I will aid you in this, should you wish it.” Kíli bit his lip and looked around, suddenly nervous. “I am the top most house on this hill, no one can see what goes on unless you turn around and display for all of Hobbiton.”
“O... okay,” Kíli stuttered, his flush back fully. “What would you have me do?” he asked and Bilbo smirked.
“Why, Master dwarf, I would have you listen to my voice...” He waited until Kíli closed his eyes without prompting and smiled. “Rest your hands on the wall, move your body away, just an inch, so you can’t feel it.”
“But the friction-”
“Is mine to give, is it not?” Bilbo reasoned and Kíli huffed but complied. “Now, were you permitted access to my home tonight, what would you have me do?”
“What you spoke of,” Kíli said instantly.
“I can’t quite recall... remind me.” At this, the dwarf hesitated.
“I would...” he licked his lips. “I would have you make me think of nothing but your name, breath nothing but your name, have me screaming it over and over,” he breathed, stuttering every few words but the meaning was clear.
“How would you imagine I would do that, hmm?” Bilbo asked, his finger trailing down from Kili’s forehead to trace around the dwarf’s ear, eliciting a gasp. “Would I... strip you down and worship your body as would be befitting for a royal such as yourself?” Kíli was shaking his head. “No, very well... would I treat you as a lover, intimate and with passion, love and contentment... would I lay you out on the bed and clean every inch of you before slicking my fingers up with oil and penetrating you, stretching you out, almost using four fingers, but not quite, because the ache is quite agreeable,” he smirked though Kíli was unable to see it. “Then would I take you like that, face to face, whispering words of love as I moved inside you until we both reached completion...” Kíli didn’t shake his head but he was shaking. “Or would this happen,” Bilbo murmured. “I would take you to my bed, tell you to strip and kneel atop the covers... you wouldn’t kneel on all fours, not immediately, but I would force you onto your hands. My hands would explore every inch or your body, hard like the stone from which your race was born,” he breathed directly into Kíli’s ear. “I would touch every inch - except for where you needed me the most. I would drive you made with little touches and teasing kisses, taunted licks and bites full of promise - you would be butter in my hand, warm and pliable and I could do anything because you are reduced to pure, need.”
“Please,” Kíli begged.
“Did I give you leave to speak?” Bilbo asked and Kíli bit his lip, shaking his head frantically, making the hobbit smile. “I would put you back on your knees,” he went on. “And I would part your cheeks and press my tongue flat against your beautiful little hole, so untouched by any skillful hands, and I would open you up - it would be agonising for you, for I would not let you move. You would be mine to do with what I will... and I would do everything... including, some time into my attempting to lick you open, I insert my fingers, slick with oil and saliva I would penetrate you and it would not be delicate, for you are not a flower, you are stone and you can take the punishment, you would revel in it. It makes you burn with desire so hot you don’t know what to do with yourself - I can see you now. Your hands are clenching against the stone wall and you want to grab me and throw me down, but that is not what this is about, Kíli,” he murmured.
“Because when I have three fingers comfortably inside you, I would stop and think... and perhaps add a fourth. I would not go beyond that for your first, but it is a thought for the future.” Kíli groaned behind his lip biting. “You, stretched as you are, kneel before me, backside ready for me to plunder, legs shaking and your cock,” he growled the word against Kíli’s ear. “Would be dripping. You would be so hard it has become painful but I don’t care, you are mine to do with what I wish... I would see you squirm for a while until you relented and began to beg, though you know I told you to keep quiet - it’s almost as if you wish to be gagged, young one,” another whisper against Kíli’s ear. “I would then take you... Push my own hard, dripping cock deep inside you slowly, easing you into it, making sure I don’t tear anything or hurt you because that is a hurt I cannot control and that isn’t what this is about, young one...”
“What if I wanted it harder?” Kíli gasped.
“Then I would wait, I would tease you slowly until you were delirious, and then I would pull out until I was barely settled against your hole. You would no doubt keep moving, twitching, and I would not move until you ceased, so we would be there for a while I expect... but when you did stop, I would add a touch more oil to ease the way and I would press into you with such force you would fall forward on your forearms. I would thrust into you like that but I would tire of not being able to hear you try to be quiet for me. Your little whines, moans, tiny groans...all low enough that a man would not hear but my hearing is sharper than an elf’s... I would hear everything,” he growled. “And I would love it,” he purred. “I would fist a hand in your hair and pull you back sharply and you would cry out, shocked more than pained and the ache would spur you on. You would beg for release but every time you attempt to touch yourself, I pull your hair sharper than the last time until eventually, all you are before me is a mess of wanton desire and lust.. all you seek is your pleasure and, being the hobbit I am, I would have none of that. You are there for my pleasure, remember... your own is a bonus should I allow you to reach your peak, and I tell you as much.
“Do not release until I say,” he murmured. “Do not dare, as my disappointment would live long with you even if we never saw one another again, and it would be constant, and that scares you - you don’t want to disappoint me, you want me proud... and then you beg me to go harder. So, because you have been behaving, I give you your wish. The pace is even more brutal than before and you cry out with each thrust, when I hit that one spot inside you that sends burning pleasure across all your nerves. You beg and you beg for release, for yours and for mine until, finally, I stop and pull out. I throw you onto your back and spread your legs. When I push inside you stare at me, those beautiful brown eyes wide, awed at the new sensations and I would smile, as once more, one final time, I begin to thrust.”
Bilbo was resting their foreheads together as he spoke and his fingers were idly tracng patterns in front of Kíli’s trousers.
“I start slow,” he whispered. “And build up until the fire in my belly grows beyond it’s limits and I spill myself inside you, coating your insides with my spent seed. I continue to thrust and you are begging but I don’t give you leave just yet,” his lips twitched and Kíli groans, frustrated. “I pull out and just stare at you flushed and so full of sex and beauty it would be enough to harden me if I let it continue, but I don’t. I thrust three fingers inside you and you arch, crying out.” He grasped the front of Kíli’s trousers fully and nearly groaned at the thickness of the member he held. His hand began massaging, squeezing and moving expertly, making Kíli’s breath quick and low moans fall from his mouth. “The stabbing pace is just as fast, if not faster than before, though this time the aim inside is true with each thrust and then as I feel you tighten around my fingers, I thrust once more and tell you to release. You bow your back and scream yourself hoarse as I press against that spot inside a I’m in awe,” he rubbed Kíli through his orgasm until he was naught but a twitching, gasping, flushed mess desperately holding onto the garden wall to keep himself upright. “Because you are beautiful and I just caused you such pleasure,” he whispered.
A few minutes later, they were both of them sat on the wall, breathing normally, the flush of the moment dying with the chill of the night hitting exposed sweat on skin.
“You are a wonder,” Kíli laughed softly and Bilbo’s smile was knowing. “And had I experienced that or something akin to it during my adolescent years... I would not be as easily flushed as I am now,” he laughed with Bilbo until finally, he took his leave, going the long way back into town. Bilbo remained on the wall until Kíli was out of sight and turned to the way they had both walked up earlier.
“If you have come to tell me to leave your dwarf alone, I would remind you that he approached me,” he said not too loudly, but not quietly.
“How long have you known I was here?” the blonde dwarf from the pub stepped out from the culvert leading to his stores was set into the land.
“You followed him here,” Bilbo said with a careless shrug.
“He is my brother,” the voice was much closer and Bilbo opened his eyes to see mixed emotions in the eyes staring back at him. Not least was the clear and obvious presence of lust.
“Is it your brother you lust for, Master Dwarf, or the sight of him with me?” the dwarf didn’t answer but the eyes still sang their tune. “Or better still... do you wish it were you in his place? With him beside you perhaps...”
“You see much for one so small,” the dwarf’s words were hushed.
“Hmm,” was all Bilbo said and stood up from the wall. “Would you like some advice?” he asked and the blonde raised an eyebrow. “Dwarrow customs are not so binding that same-sex siblings cannot partake in affairs or lust or even love. I have heard it tell many-a-time by many-a-traveller through my lands that such things are simply the way of life. the fact that you are crown prince and he is next in line, should not dissuade you of attempting anything... However,” and here, Bilbo’s eyes narrowed. “Your brother is so very young, not in years, but in heart, and he has been spurned by would-be suitors before which, no doubt, you tried to protect him from. As a result of those misplaced encounters, he is...” he sighed. “Too young. You would do tell to watch your brother and care for him as he deserves and most of all, teach him.”
“It was for that very reason I allowed you to do what you did,” he said after a long moment’s silence. “Though I am glad you did not take him inside...”
“Yes well, losing someone in your service would shatter anyone’s control for a night, do you not think?” Bilbo’s demeanor changed and he was almost scowling just thinking on what happened in the Green Dragon.
“You are a good person, Master Baggins,” the blonde bowed his head. “I will take your words under close advisement.”
When Bilbo finally got into his smial that evening, the first thing he saw to was the branch in his pants!