Chapter Text
The first incident was dismissed as an accident.
After all, Bilbo was a Hobbit, entirely without stone sense, and that particular branch of the mine shaft had been cleared as passable, but the miner's were stretched a bit thin trying to identify every safe option. That did not in any way mean that Thorin had not thrown an impressive fit and roared at all and sundry to clear the rubble and safely return his Hobbit to his side, unharmed and whole.
Bilbo himself had very little memory of the events, all he did know was that he'd gone into the caves to see where a noise was coming from. Then the floor and walls and ceiling had decided to play some sick children's running game and had swapped places several times before Bilbo found himself huddled in a tight crevice, toes feeling very pinched indeed. He passed out at some point, but he allows that it must have been shock as he had no injuries from the event.
And of course, the noise must have been tumbling rock or weakening stone, and so it was all neatly brushed aside.
~~~~~*~~~~~*~~~~~
"Good morning, Bilbo."
"Nori, what sort of friend makes a habit of secreting himself about my and Thorin's personal chambers?" Bilbo spluttered, pulling the nearest object--a basket of fruit--closer and placing it in front of his exposed privates.
"The type of friend who is also your Spymaster, You Highness." Bilbo spluttered. "Don't you worry, your pretty Hobbit head, Bilbo. I'll show myself into your lovely kitchen while you make yourself decent. Are those pumpkin muffins I smell?"
Bilbo sighed at the way his friend had gone. He returned the basket to its place on the table before yelling, "Don't take more than three, Nori!" He huffed and began pulling his clothes on.
"More than three! Bilbo, you dear, I knew you loved me best!"
Bilbo closed his eyes, one leg in his trousers, the other still bare. "Mahal, save me from your clot-headed dwarrow. Yavana, grant me patience."
Once properly attired, Bilbo made his way to the kitchen where he found Nori choking violently. "Oh dear!" He raced over and began pounding on his back, helping Nori to cough out the bit of muffin that had stuck in his throat. Only for Nori to proceed to vomit all over the kitchen floor.
Guards were sent for Dori, Ori, Oin, Dwalin, and Thorin in short order while Bilbo helped Nori into his bathing chambers. Once the dwarf was settled with a convenient bucket, Bilbo set up several washcloths and a basin of chilled water. "I'd rather wait until Oin has a chance to test your forehead before I begin setting these on your forehead if you can last the time it takes him to arrive, Nori."
Nori's only response was to groan.
"Oh, you poor thing. To think all this mess is because of my pumpkin muffins. I only made them this morning and wanted to share them with the company. Are you allergic to pumpkin by any chance?"
Nori shook his head weakly. Dori and Oin crashed into the bathroom mere moments ahead of Thorin and Dwalin. Ori brought up the rear in short order, despite having to travel the greatest distance.
"He was eating some of my muffins, and then he was choking, and now he's been ill! Oin," Bilbo began, before he stepped out of the healer's way.
In short order, Oin had finished his inspection and turned to Thorin, who was holding Bilbo's hand, and said, "Poison."
The Company went a little mad, Bilbo thought. Yes, poison was a horrible business, especially when applied to Hobbits. But, as he argued, everyone under the mountain knew their Consort love to bake and share his baked goods with the company, and it was much more likely that someone was attempting to poison one of them than him. He was just a Hobbit of little consequence when compared to the King who had reclaimed Erebor, or the two Princes who were said King's heirs.
Not that Bilbo would idly stand by and allow anyone to poison his husband or nephews. Or any of his friends, especially since one had been attacked, inadvertently.
Oh, no.
But the added guards to Bilbo's chambers, his trips absolutely any and everywhere, and the talk of hiring a royal taste tester?
Fat load of nonsense.
~~~~~*~~~~~*~~~~~
The company was still on the look for the poisoner, and Nori was fully recovered and seemed intent on "delousing the mountain" which sounded less threatening than it probably was, when the third incident occurred.
It was a bright day in Dale, the rebuilding progressing ahead of schedule, that Bilbo and Fili went with their guards and Ori and Bofur as advisors. Bard had been named King of Dale, with no dissension among his people, except on his own part. Which had amused Bilbo greatly as he could easily relate to suddenly becoming a celebrity and figurehead for simply defending his family.
The diplomatic meetings over with in short order, Bilbo and Fili joined Bard and his children for a light lunch. At one point during the meal, Bilbo laughed so heartily that he dropped his fork. The same moment he bent over to retrieve it, an arrow buried itself in the back of his chair where his head had been just seconds before.
Bard's children shrieked and hurried to clamber under the table as guards--dwarven and human--filed into the room, obstructing any line of sight. Bard stood and commanded several of his men to seek out the culprit.
Fili pulled his Hobbit uncle into his arms and with a nod to Bard, took off with him, flanked by their advisors at the center of a phalanx of guards.
Thorin hadn't let go of Bilbo for a solid hour after Fili raced into the throne room, and shoved Bilbo into his uncle's arms as the story spilled from his lips in rapid Khuzdul.
Warriors were rapidly dispatched to the city to aid in the investigation.
Bilbo admitted that it was a terrible business, but he was fine and Thorin really needed to get back to his Kingly affairs. Nothing would befall Bilbo if he did as he planned and spent the remainder of the day in bed, worn out from the events of the day.
Thorin elected to join his Hobbit in bed and reassure himself of his husband's well-being.
~~~~~*~~~~~*~~~~~
Nori's poisoner was soon caught and was executed swiftly, so that the first time Bilbo heard of the dwarf's capture was in the same sentence that he heard of his shaving and beheading.
The man from Dale confessed to having targeted at the request of a dwarf who had paid him enough to feed his family for the next three years. The man lost his hands, as was the judgement passed down by Bard, and the search for the dwarf who hired the mercenary was still underway.